Askew in a world of warcraft
by TheJackinati275
Summary: An Orc, the Dragonborn from Skyrim is taken out of retirement inadvertently and onto Azeroth... There's just one catch, his children are with him. If you want action, a little bit of humour, and Orc on Orc violence, you may just like this story.
1. Chapter 1: Askew in a world of warcraft

Askew in a world of warcraft.

Disclaimer: Warcraft series owned by Blizzard Entertainment. Elder scrolls series owned by Bethesda.

An Orc, the Dragonborn from Skyrim is taken out of retirement inadvertently and onto Azeroth... There's just one catch, his children are with him. If you want action, a little bit of humour, and Orc on Orc violence, you may just like this story.

* * *

Prologue:

If you are looking for a tale of bold adventure, of blind optimism… then this is not a story that you may enjoy. The tales about my making, or taking, or rather the seizing of gold by the bundle-load… now that is true, all true.

In truth, my life story is a long and bitter story of abandonment and killing. I grew to enjoy the killing to an extent, hated my abandonment though, now that hurt.

Fighting for my life each and every day gave me a rush, a thrill. It was surreal, now that i look back at it. Killing men was my freedom from my confinement, my prison, a small orphanage just inside of Riften. It started with me running away at age ten or thereabouts, and ended with me joining a bandit group. I won't go into details, there are things that i will keep with me to my grave, the stuff that i will never talk about, the stuff that scarred me, that taught me to always be careful.

Helgen, what a story. I don't know how i ended up in a cart, but i was headed for the headsman's block, which is fitting in a way, given my past. I do not regret what i did, i don't look back on the old days, it was the things i did to survive, even if it involved ruthless killing. You did anything to survive, you did anything you could do to watch your crew's backs, at least until the treasure was in sight and you killed them to stop them from killing you and taking your share of the loot. Banditry, for everything wrong about it, it is great at teaching men important life-lessons, many of them that i keep with me today… especially about putting your guard down, never do it!

Dragonborn… i am dragonborn, i still feel the same way when people tell it to me, i still feel the disbelief myself at that inadvertent fact. As much as i dislike believing in all that prophesy nonsense, i feel as though i was led to this point, led to save Tamriel from Alduin and the dragon menace. I hate prophesies, the fact that people are unwittingly led to a point by the great god's in the aetherius, it feels like slavery, i do not like slavery. I bat my eye at slavery, i have heard about the Dunmer and their slaving way's, but that does not mean that i necessarily like it, much like how our kind was enslaved to following Malacath, otherwise something would happen to the strongholds, i piss on that assertion more than half the time. People make their own fate, that is my opinion, prophesy only truly works on the upper one percent usually composed of rich bastards and emperor's. Me, i guess i lucked out on the grand scale of things.

Speaking of the grand scale of things, i killed Ulfric. The guy had my respect, but i knew he was a warmonger sapping the strength of the empire, so he had to go. You could also list down Alduin and Miraak. During the whole thing i never viewed myself as a hero, i was simply doing what i generally did, killing my enemies and earning gold, raising a crew, the whole gambit of running an efficient and fully functional crew of professionals, misfits and ruffians. I led a charmed life, what can i say.

The end… well the story simply ended with retirement. This retirement consisted of my manor up near pinewatch-way. If you thought it was me and my comely wife making sweet love the whole time, think again. The wife is hypothetical and my hands are tied up in housework.

No, my retirement consisted of me and my family, all going stir-crazy. Listening to mopey girls cry over missing dolls, feeding mudcrab pets, stopping fisticuffs down the cellar and blocking errant wooden sword swings, that's what my day's consisted of. It was fun, i loved my children, my family. Blaise, Lucia, Sofie and Alesan are their names. We are divided in some aspects, yet we are all alike in the fact that we were all orphaned, but one thing is true, i love them all, and i would die for them.

And now that everything has been said, let me tell you about how it all began.

* * *

Chapter 1: Askew in a world of warcraft.

Tap tap tap, the sound of footsteps rippled through the wooden flooring, disturbing Yagadash's rest.

Yagadash heard the quiet opening, or rather the creaking of a door, his door.

"Blaise?…"

"Dad… there's a dragon out there."

If Yagadash could swear, he would have, but he restrained himself in front of his children. "By the nine. Get the others in here, let me handle this."

Yagadash had not yet grown accustomed to the hallmarks of his earlier life, mainly getting combat ready on short notice.

Yagadash rushed up the stairs, quickly fitting on his padded garments before prying off bits of his daedric armour from his main mannequin and affixing them to his frame. For armour to be well fitted, it required plenty of time and tight fitting laces, Yagadash had no time, and he rushed the lacing, thus his armour was not very well fitted. Yagadash finished up by donning his helmet and grasping his Daedric longsword from its pedestal as well as his ebony dagger. Yagadash rushed to the other side of the room and smashed his fist through a pane of glass, pulling out a steel crossbow from the display case. Yagadash pulled out the box of bolts hanging from a wooden peg, strapping the box on his back with practiced hands.

If there was one thing that sucked, it was getting kicked out of retirement on such a short notice.

"Dad, please don't go out there."

It tore Yagadash apart, listening to Sofie.

"I won't have to… If that dragon doesn't leave us, he is going to get a bolt in the head from out that windowsill." Yagadash pointed to the top window on the house.

Alesan piped up in that strong-boy-like fashion of his. "Awesome dad, can i see it?"

"Do whatever you want, but if you come rushing up to me in the middle of the night because you get nightmares from this, don't say i didn't warn you."

Many people might question Yagadash's parenting skills, but the way he saw it Yagadash was teaching his children to be free to make their own decisions, with some careful attention on Yagadash's part.

Yagadash quickly drew the crow-foot back on his crossbow, the levering action forcing the tiller back and the steel line to go taut. Yagadash slotted his steel bolt home on the crossbow.

Yagadash craned his neck to the side, peeking out through the top window down to the earth and the tree's in the distance.

He didn't see a dragon, but he did see a puddle of blood… at least that was what Yagadash saw for the first four seconds before a giant dragon with black scales showed up.

Yagadash heard something, but it wasn't in the dragon language.

"Murozond!"

Yagadash felt nothing, but he saw something akin to the shimmering portal of Hermaeus Mora both surrounding and encompassing the entirety of lakeview manor into the portal, which then vanished in a flash of white. Lakeview manor wasn't in Pinewatch anymore, that was for sure, but it was in some forested area with tree's all about. Foliage covered the place, making it hard to see out of the window.

* * *

Felerias Evenforest had had enough of false rumours and reports… there was apparently a surge of magical energies that emanated throughout the region she had just reached, near the eastern end of Ashenvale, but it had dissipated away just as quickly. Felerias wasn't confident that the druid would be able to pick up the trail anymore, but she kept him around regardless. Her two sentinels and druid were armed with their respective weapons and armours, with the Sentinel's in leather armour with stout bow's and handy glaives and the druid in a scratchy, worn robe that was burnet in colour and a large wooden staff formed from a root of a well-aged tree.

Felerias's sabercat, Felix, stalked through the land before stopping suddenly for no apparent reason.

"What is it boy, did you spot something?"

Felix bowed his head up and down, a quick yes.

Felerias dismounted, and her squad dismounted with her. Felerias and her squad continued on foot for several minutes, cutting through vines and thick branches that blocked their route through the land. The team stopped upon hearing the hoarse sound of the vile creatures that Night elves grew to hate, Orc's.

"You heard your orders, we are to find the source of this disturbance and bring back some news to the Warchief. No slacking!"

If what Felerias had heard was true, then the orc's were after the same thing she was after.

Felerias raised her hand up in the air, a quick command, essentially saying 'on my mark'. Felerias shifted her finger to the side before pointing out at individual targets, Orc's that her teammates were to pick out and target.

Felerias silently drew her longbow, and carefully drew it back to her cheek, nocking her arrow and aligning her flights. Within a single moment, she released, flinging the arrow forth, twirling amongst the air as it stabilised its flight for the first ten meters, now it was flying straight and true, into the exposed neck of an Orc.

His windpipe was partially severed by the broad-head tip, stopping him from raising alarm or crying out death cries that would alert the Orc's.

Shylindia and Nelanai, her sentinel teammates had also loosed their bow's. One struck an Orc through the forehead, killing him outright whilst one of the arrow's flew short, pinning against a tree instead of the target Orc. That Orc raised the alarm, shouting out to his compatriots, and now the balance had turned. The Orc's had the favour of having a numerical advantage, they had more men, about eleven, and they had the musculature and brawn to offer them protection against indirect arrow impacts and the heavy armour to back them up, being armed with maile and some with plated regions. Felerias and her team had the advantage of intrinsic knowledge of their homeland, as well as having the backs of teammates who knew guerrilla warfare and ambushing tactics like the backs of their hands.

The battle, or rather a series of small skirmishes drew on for many minutes, with the Night elves losing ground in each battle. The Orc's were emerging victorious in the match-up, but it was costing them drastically, they lest several men to repeated arrow barrages.

But, what really shocked Felerias was the arrival of a new being, a new entity. He forced his way between the Horde members and Felerias's team. Felerias saw the armour and rapidly assumed that the being before her was of Fel origin, but there was no fel energy surrounding him. No-one else in the whole of Azeroth would wear armour similar in composition.

"What in the plane of oblivion is going on here?"

The horde members, the Orcs simply charged, laughing at the new opponent. "Hahahahahaha!"

The entity, who donned armour as black as midnight raised their crossbow and loosed a bolt. The bolt flew through the air for a moment before embedding in the upper right shoulder of an Orc member, who was adorned in a maille coat with a leather pauldron on the left shoulder.

* * *

Yagadash grinned; those gargantuan Orsimer-likes looked like they wanted a challenge. So long as Yagadash could keep the Orsimer-likes from collaborating with each other or surrounding him, Yagadash knew that he could win.

Yagadash drew his daedric longsword and held the blade out in front, with the pommel gripped firmly in the palm of his left hand. Yagadash kicked his feet into the uneven ground, reinforcing his footwork and aiding his stance. He was now ready for an onrushing charger, ready to pounce, to parry, to grapple, to dodge, to evade, but most of all Yagadash was ready to kill.

The Orsimer-likes seemed to think that Yagadash was cowardly, but Yagadash didn't give a fuck about the opinions of foreigners, Yagadash lived well for a reason, he always relied on his martial training and experience to guide him through.

One of the Orsimer-likes charged through, seeking a challenge. He jumped with his sword held high to lunge and was instead skewered at the point of Yagadash's sword, momentum aiding the sword in penetrating further.

The attack did stagger Yagadash, the force of a seven foot tall, overly-muscled green man falling down directly onto your sword and onto you is a lot of force to counter, and thus Yagadash was forced backwards several paces and almost tumbled However, Yagadash was experienced with resisting dragon strikes, and thus quickly recovered.

Yagadash shouted to the Orsimer-likes, taunting them. "What kind of idiot leaps to combat?"

A new Orsimer-like showed up, taking the bait. He was armed with a large axe with a blade the size of Yagadash's head, not that it scared Yagadash that much since it looked to be an unbalanced and unwieldy weapon.

The Orsimer-like stood no less than five meters away waiting, encircling, hoping for a weakness to exploit. Yagadash changed stance just as his opponent began to rush forward, swinging his axe vertically, ready to strike. Yagadash knew what his opponent had intended to do, he could tell by positioning his axe above his opponents head and thus Yagadash made his first step, he quickly stepped back two steps and assumed a new stance with his sword held to his lower legs directly in front of him, a fool's guard.

Yagadash's opponent did exactly as Yagadash thought he would do, and now his axe was plunged deeply into the earth, and Yagadash was fine.

Yagadash rushed in and hastily stepped on top of the Orsimer-like's axe, hopefully stopping the large man from retrieving his weapon. Yagadash quickly grasped his weapon to the side of his face, where the metal of his crossguard cooled against Yagadash's cheek. Yagadash's left hand held the blade straight and true along the upper half of the blade.

Yagadash knew that his opponent was armoured, and so assumed to half-sword his daedric longsword and thrust into the Orsimer-like's exposed neck. The blade struck true and emerged about two fingers deep on the other side of the neck of his opponent, blood licking out of his neck in light downpours of red. Yagadash pulled the blade out, causing the large green man to bleed out in even deeper downpours of red. Then came several gurgling sounds that were released for a moment before the Orsimer-like fell down with a thud. Yagadash quickly thrust downwards into chest of the Orsimer-like, where the riveted chain-links with the aid of gravity were were pried open by force, and so gave way the flesh below the chain. Deep it struck through and opened up the stomach, and so was released a large volume of blood that pooled out onto the dirt and grass below.

Yagadash walked away from the corpse and assumed his previous stance before taunting back to the Orsimer-likes again.

"Do you know nothing of combat?!... Do not give away your intent, or you will end up getting fucked by your enemies sword."

This time, two Orsimer-likes charged up, ready to attack Yagadash from both sides, from his front and from his back. Yagadash readied his hand's and loosened his feet, ready to evade at any moment.

Orsimer-like one, the one at Yagadash's back charged at him, but Yagadash was not stupid and predicted this maneuver. Yagadash rushed out of the way.

Orsimer-like two charged in as Yagadash evaded, trying to bring him off balance. His opponent was successful and Yagadash was knocked down to the floor, but Yagadash still had his weapon in both of his hand's.

Orsimer-like two reached around and managed to swing his large axe downwards and with great force toward's Yagadash. Yagadash raised his sword longways, directly in front of the shaft of the axe to defend, but the strike had sufficient enough force to knock Yagadash's daedric longsword from his hand's and onto the ground, this left Yagadash's hands ringing with numbness and pain.

Yagadash, knowing that his longsword could not be reached, quickly drew out his ebony dagger from his hip and wanted to get into a grapple with Orsimer one, who had just returned to standing up after his attempt to knock Yagadash over from behind.

Yagadash grappled at his opponent's left leg with his dagger held in an ice-pick grip. Yagadash hooked into the back of the flesh with the dagger and eventually caused tendons to be split on his opponent, whilst simultaneously, Yagadash's left hand had forced into his opponent's chest. Orsimer one fell down to the ground.

Orsimer two could not do anything to help without causing damage to his ally, and so he stood aside.

Yagadash leaped on top of Orsimer-one, expecting to have an easy time of stabbing him to bits, but Yagadash was wrong.

Orsimer one fell down with his axe, and he pushed the shaft into Yagadash's chest to keep him from raining down thrusts with Yagadash's dagger.

Yagadash knew that while the Orsimer continued to use his shaft to keep him at bay, he also knew that his opponent could not use his axe effectively, and so Yagadash turned that to his advantage through which he was going to seize the moment.

Yagadash kneed his opponent in the testicles, and with the shaft now lowered momentarily as his opponent cried out in pain, Yagadash ice-picked his dagger downwards, cutting through flesh, and Yagadash smiled.

Yagadash's smile was short-lived, for while he had succesfully delivered a strike to his opponent, he was caught offguard by a kick to his right leg. Yagadash felt the kicking impacts, and due to Yagadash's terrible lacing, Yagadash's daedric greave on his right leg fell off.

Now that Orsimer one's shaft had lowered slightly after being attacked in the testicle, he found that he could not raise the shaft again becouse all of Yagadash's weight had settled downwards onto the shaft... He knew suddenly that despite his best efforts, that he was going to be killed.

Yagadash began to reign down blow after blow, and that was how Orsimer-like one was killed.

Yagadash had killed his ally, Orsimer-two charged in with his axe.

Yagadash was dazed as his helmet took the full impact of an axe strike. The inside padding helped to absorb some of the impact, but it didn't help stop the brain-jarring feeling of sickness that swept over Yagadash.

Yagadash quickly did a backwards roll, hoping to evade his enemy. However, Yagadash found that there was no need to do so, for Orsimer-like two had an arrow embedded in his head, and he fell to the earth dead.

Yagadash, who had managed to stand after his roll, fell to the ground again. He was still conscious, but he was concussed and feeling very sick, his vision beginning to blur and his breathing was beginning to slow. It became very hot and claustrophobic inside of his helmet, which did not improve how Yagadash was feeling.

More Orsimer-likes charged up to Yagadash, hoping to enact revenge.

Yagadash had to rely on his Thu'um, his voice, his shout in order to defeat his opponents, now that his main weapon had been flung away, and he was not in any condition to return to fighting off multiple opponents at once.

"Yol-Toor-Shul."

A wreathing expanse of roaring flames engulfed the stream of gas that emerged from Yagadash's mouth, quickly killing all the Orsimer-likes in a single gout of flaming breath. For a long distance, there were smoldering flames that ignited nearby regions of forest.

Yagadash quickly tried to regain his bearings, but he was still disorientated, and he could not get up himself.

It was not a moment too soon when he felt a hand on his back. Yagadash turned around and saw Blaise's concerned face. "Dad… dad!"

Yagadash quickly put a finger over to his helmet just above where his mouth would be before expelling one sound, the universal sound for quietness…

"Ssssssshhhhhhhh… my head is killing me."

Not a moment later, Lucia, Sofie and Alesan rushed out from their hiding places, assisting Yagadash as he tried to get up.

Yagadash heard something in the near distance, rustling through the leaves.

Yagadash quickly turned his head, searching, scanning the horizon for any clues as to the sound, but stopped when the rustling halted.

"Dad… we have wood elves over here… not little ones, big ones, with big ears."

Yagadash quickly kicked over one of the bodies of the Orsimer-likes and lifted his daedric longsword from beneath the chaotic body pile… he was too late, he was now face to face with three sets of bow's and someone armed with a stick, all pointed towards his face.

Yagadash quickly dashed to the side so that he was facing directly in front of his children, his body protecting their short profiles. Yagadash would not be able to rely on his shout for a second time, as he was still recovering from his shout.

"Take a step closer and lose your heads!"

Now that Yagadash had the time to observe his opponents, he saw that they were like a mixture of Bosmer with Dunmer. Bosmer in the fact that they wielded large bows and were proficient at fighting in forested regions, but Dunmer in the fact that their skin colour was dark blue, almost black. Their eyes of the womenfolk were of a stunning blue, though the man had amber eye's that were almost brown.

Yagadash saw their bows lower, but Yagadash still held his sword in his stance, alarmed and cautious.

"Who are you?"

Yagadash saw as the tall, central woman spoke. She was a beauty, from what he could see, and completely unadorned of any imperfections upon her face, except for a small cut on the side of her right cheek. Yagadash could also see that the party was sporting some bruises and a series of small cut's that would need medical attention at some point in the future.

"Who are you?" Yagadash returned, his voice was firm and calm.

The woman seemed to have realized that Yagadash was not going to respond until she offered up her own name first.

"I am Felerias Evenforest, these two sentinels beside me are Shylindia and Nelanai, and the male is Ydraeth."

Yagadash sighed, but never loosened the grip on his sword.

"I am Yagadash Gro'Nolooth. My sons are Blaise and Alesan and my daughters are Sofie and Lucia."

"Yagadash does not sound human, what are you?"

Yagadash blurted out impetuously "Orsimer."

The woman, Felerias, seemed to have a puzzled expression on her face.

"Orsimer, What is an Orsimer?, i have not heard of them."

Yagadash exclaimed in rapid pace. "Have not heard of an Orsimer… what about those over th…". Yagadash halted his statement for a moment, then returned to speaking. "Look, never mind. One second."

Yagadash quickly undid the latches sealing his helmet shut, before prying his daedric helmet from his face. Yagadash revealed his blooded nose and lip's, his short tusks, his brown eyes and his short-cut hair, his braided beard and his sharp, mer ears. The moment the Bosmer-Dunmer's saw his face, they drew their bow's and the man readied his staff.

Yagadash saw the movement and readied his sword and stance ready to charge if he needed to.

The elves shouted in seeming unison "Orc, he's an Orc!"

Yagadash shouted at the elves with barely held-back anger. "What in the nine divines is this for, you… you… you…." Yagadash restrained himself from swearing at the last moment and turned it into something lacking in vulgar words or expressions. "You... pointy eared prancies"

Alesan's laughing at Yagadash's shouted sentence was the catalyst which stopped the Bosmer-Dunmer's from attacking. They lowered their bows, and Yagadash lowered his sword.

Yagadash took the opportunity to strike up something.

"You are injured, i am injured… if we are going to kill each other, we might as well do it when we are all healed up. My place, my home, it has a warm hearth and herbs for healing, and good ale too."

Felerias nodded her head, she had agreed to his offer of hospitality, but only barely, and if not for her companions, she would not have taken the Orcs offer of aid.

Yagadash grinned, if only the Bosmer-Dunmer's knew what was in store for them. Dealing with an Orc dragonborn and his family of children is hard on anyone.

"Well then, Bosmer-Dunmer's, follow me to my humble abode."

Felerias followed in behind the Orc, who was apparently called Yagadash Gro'Nolooth, but to be honest she knew he was lying. The naming was wrong for an Orc, there was no bloodhowl, no goreaxe, no exaggerated name on how he earned his last name as was common in Orc names, even the name of Yagadash did not sound that Orcish.

Ydraeth hastily sneaked up behind Felerias and whispered into her ear's.

"Why did he call us Bosmer-Dunmer's?"

Yagadash stopped, and spoke behind his back.

"Bosmer-Dunmer, because you act like Bosmer's and look like Dunmer's… actually, let me sum it up like this. Where i am from, there are these prancy elves called Bosmer, who like forest's and use bows, then there are Dunmer, who look as dark as you are, who like to burn stuff with destruction magic. That's pretty much it, Bosmer-Dunmer's you are, and so i call you such."

Felerias sighed, before correcting him. "We are Nightelves, and i hardly believe in this bogus about Dunmer and Bosmer, as you called them. I have never heard of them."

"Well miss, i have not heard of nightelves, and you may as well be from Atmora."

Yagadash restarted his brisk pace, remembering the way that he had emerged from. Before long, he was at the sight of his manor, Lakeview manor. The stable was still there, and Yagadash was happy for that, though there was no horse that Yagadash had used during the time the portal descended, so he had no mount to ride upon.

To the surprise of Felerias and her group upon seeing Yagadash's house, they had to admit that the house was large and well crafted. Intimate wooden carvings adorned the door frames, and figures of wolves and warriors doing great battle against one another was the main motif common in the design.

"So, how did this get here… it doesn't look to be made from the same wood as our forest?"

Yagadash sighed, before raising his voice. "A portal, probably Daedric in origin… and a dragon, who said something that sounded like Murazond, Morazund… something like that."

Felerias had sworn she had heard that name before, but couldn't remember why or where it was from.

This time, Yagadash spoke, as well as gesticulating with his hands. "My home, Lakeview manor, built entirely by my hands, and carved by my hands."

Yagadash continued onwards, before opening the door for the new guests.

Felerias and her team stepped inside, where they were welcomed to a rather cozy environment. Fine rugs and tapestries lined the entryway. Wolf trophies lined both sides and glass display pieces showed off artifacts and small weapon's. There was a weapon rack on one side that held a collection of assorted weapons.

Yagadash walked into the main hall, gesturing for the nightelves to continue onwards. "Come, come."

Felerias entered through the door and saw just how expansive and well-furnished the hallway was. She could tell that everything was new, the smell of freshly hewn timber, the clean flooring, the fresh rugs that were not stained, all indicators of a new homestead. There was a large deer head trophy hanging up from an unlit stone fireplace.

"You built all this?" Felerias said, not believing Yagadash's words.

Yagadash sighed. "I did. Plenty of work, a lot of learning, many mistakes, but i guess i managed it off, as you can see. Sit here whilst i go find some bandage material."

Yagadash walked off, before finding some fresh tablecloths. He gathered them up, checking each one to ensure that they were clean.

Yagadash placed the tablecloths in a box and set them on the floor near Felerias. Yagadash then grabbed a metal pot and set it near the fireplace, to boil it and some herbs together to aid in healing.

Yagadash retrieved his flint and steel, and was ready to strike it to produce sparks that would light the dried straw and kindling in the fireplace.

"Here."

Felerias set a flash of fire from her hands tumbling into the fireplace, igniting the kindling in a quick burst of flame.

"Hnnng." Yagadash grunted in reply, it was his way of thanking others without speaking.

Yagadash took one of the fresh tablecloth's and began to wipe away at the dried blood that caked his nose.

"Nnnngggg." It hurt pulling bloodflakes away from his nose, especially when he pulled a few stray nose hairs out. Fresh blood began to pour out, and Yagadash wiped it off with his piece of tablecloth.

"AGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

Yagadash quickly grabbed his daedric longsword and stood upright, but lowered his blade downwards when he saw the commotion.

It seemed as though one of the Nightelves had just met Nipper, Blaise's pet mudcrab… Yagadash grinned.

"Bad nipper, down… go on, shoo!" Blaise shouted to the mudcrab.

Yagadash turned to face Felerias, his playful grin dominating his facial features. "So, this is my household... chaotic, fun."

* * *

 **Edited on 14/12/2015.**

Changes made: Reworded sections of the action scenes to make them easier to read and understand. Slight rewording on other sections to create a better reading experience.


	2. Chapter 2: Dress to impress

Askew in a world of warcraft.

Disclaimer: Warcraft series owned by Blizzard Entertainment. Elder scrolls series owned by Bethesda.

* * *

Prologue:

What is there to say about my life?

My name is Felerias Evenforest, i am a Sentinel. I fought in the so-called third war but i didn't distinguish myself there. I fought and that was that, i returned home to a burned patch on the ground, the smell of burning ash and embers dominated my mind and from that moment on i swore that i would have revenge against the Orc's, to avenge my people and the fallen, it's as simple as that… my blood still burns to this day, and i will have revenge, i swear upon my father's grave, my mother's grave, that it shall be so!

But… i must calm myself…

I was born somewhere between a thousand years ago to one thousand two hundred years ago. I don't mark the years down; my life is so long that i just remember the day of my birth, not the year. Year's pass so frequently that it isn't really worth the effort of remembering the small things, we were immortal once, but now… well, look at what the orcs have done, and that foul Archimonde.

It was the Horde, the Orc's that changed everything. They destroyed swathes of land, destroyed our great tree, and they lay waste to the eastern regions of Ashenvale in the name of industry, an industry solely devoted to keep the horde's strength in line with the Alliance's ever gaining military might. That wood, our great wood is that which is either used to create structures, or are made into charcoal in pits in the ground, fired there for weeks on end. This charcoal is then used to generate steam, which turn gears, which power devices. These devices can smelt ore or run a steam ship with the aid of Phlogiston... through these means, one can arm an army in quick succession and make numerous cannon through such actions, but only the Dwarves have made full advances into the technology, the Horde is behind the times, and they are suffering for it, we are suffering for it, for such machines damage the landscape.

But, i guess i have a talent for focusing on the darker details, if you don't mind, i will continue on a new line of… speech.

As a Sentinel, i am accustomed to guerrilla tactics, my ears are… pardon the pun… as sharp as steel. I can detect things from a good distance; i can distinguish the steps of orc feet and the sound of clanking armour from the falling of leaves and the chatter of birds at over a hundred paces or so. My bow is glued of strong horn and good yew, the string always taut and the shafts of my arrows are as long as a sword. There is no question that it can go through a man and his maille at one hundred and fifty paces. I aim for the neck, the leg's, the hand's, the groin, places that are not often defended or at the places least covered in armour, that is how i bring down my game, my quarry, whatever you want to call those filthy Orcs. I am death to the Orc's, and yet here i am.

Orc's, it all comes down to Orc's, doesn't it. Irony has a sense of… well… irony. I was bandaged up by this Orc, who admittedly doesn't seem all that Orc-like. He has the skin colour of one, but not the size, or the musculature of one. He has a name that doesn't sound Orcish, he is no son of 'Swordbane' or 'Mr Gorehaul' or whatever the orcs insist on naming themselves… but he does have the tusk's of one. His hair is short cut on the sides and back, but slightly longer on the top, the hair is dark brown, nearly black. He has a beard that encircles his mouth and ends about half a finger in length down the chin in a small braid, which is ended by a small metal bead of gold. The result is admittedly more human-like then Orc-like.

I find his antics at encouraging his "children" curiously entertaining. The children are enthralled by this one tale, sung and strung by mouth and lute over the crackling fire. It's a tale about a brave woman cutting off the head of a man, not really appropriate for children, although that might just be my child rearing experience in the night elf culture. Perhaps my words from earlier might have been too harsh and judgemental, and for that i must apologise, it is an error i must rectify at some point in time.

I am also cautious of this Orc, but i will exploit him if i can get away with it. For now i will pretend to listen in on his story tales, but an Orc has to sleep at some point and that is when i will act.

* * *

Chapter 2: Dress to impress

Yagadash had the feeling that something fishy was going on… he didn't know why, but he had a feeling in his gut.

Yagadash was spurned towards the arrogant lady, the so-called 'Felerias Evenforest', more like 'Felerias Evenbitch', a much more aptly suiting last name he thought.

This 'Evenbitch' was your average xenophobe who after a fine dinner that he had made, starts saying something along the lines of 'your kind are not suitable for taking care of children', right in front of the children too. His children were shocked at the accusation but said nothing, his own face grew slack for no less than six seconds, slack from the shock of what he had heard. He felt as though he had to pick up his own face from off the table.

Now here he was, this was his attempt at showing the bitch up by singing his own version of Ragnar the red to his children, to disprove her words.

"There once was a hero named Ragnar the red, who came a-riding in from ole Rorikstead."

Yagadash paused for a moment, looking mistrustingly towards the night elves sitting on the opposite side of the hall before he turned his head and quietly spoke towards his children.

"I just so happened to pass through Rorikstead, this tale is a tr..."

Sofie was paying little attention to any of Yagadash's singing, instead her eyes were upon the Night elves. Her face showed fear, fear and curiosity. Blaise interrupted the moment and spoke to issue his dissent about the song.

"Yeah yeah, a true story dad, we all know you went to Rorikstead already, can't you come up with a new song already?"

Yagadash responded with his usual response.

"Pfah!"

Yagadash returned back to singing. "Now if i get no more interruptions, i can retell the story. So there was this braggart named Ragnar the red, who swaggered, and he definitely did brandish his blade. He told of bold battles and gold that he made."

Yagadash paused again, strumming his lute, with the odd wrong note or two sounding in discordance.

"But Ragnar the Red went silent when he met the shield-maiden Matilda, who said…"

Yagadash changed his voice to that of a woman's, the effect causing Blaise and Alesan to giggle in response.

"Oh, you talk and you lie, you cheat at card games and you fart by the nine, now I think it's high time that you lie down and die!"

Yagadash noticed as Felerias leaned in closer, over his bench… watching his display with a look of curiosity as she was unfolding her blanket over the floor.

"And so then came clashing and slashing of steel, as the brave lass Matilda charged in with an axe full of zeal… And the braggart named Ragnar was a-farting no more… when his ugly dead head rolled around on the floor!"

Alesan snickered, before talking to his father.

"Hey dad, that isn't how the song goes… but this was way better than the real Ragnar the Red."

Yagadash dropped his lute, before reaching out and grasping Alesan and turning him upside down against Yagadash's shoulder.

"You saying i don't know how the song goes!"

Alesan cried out in laughter.

"Hahahahahaha, dad… stop that." Yagadash shook Alesan again, before tickling Alesan at the part of his shirt under his armpit's, waiting for Alesan to admit his defeat. "Your story was the best! please stop… hahahahaha."

Yagadash lowered Alesan back down to the ground, smiling.

Felerias was surprised by Yagadash's fatherly love and affection. She had never though that she would ever see an orc act this way. Yet at the same time, she saw the mistrusting gaze placed upon her and her group, a wise action. Felerias might very well kill him, she had thought about it before, but not in the presence of the children.

Yagadash spoke up to his children, cautiously watching the night elves from the corner of his eyes.

"All right then, time for bed."

Yagadash's children all moaned in unison.

"But dad…"

"No but's, up those stairs within five seconds, or you will all have twenty minutes of extra chores tomorrow morning, perhaps even shovelling out the poo at the stables… what fine work that is." Yagadash then smirked, the expression giving silent truth to his claim. If they did not get to bed, it would become true.

At that prospect, the children all rushed up the stairs and with but a jot they had gone, vanished from the world as they readied their beds, except for one.

Yagadash was now alone in his hall, the night elves all situated up on the far side, their textile sleeping mats and blankets a foreign reminder of their strange ways.

' _Feral bitch'_ Yagadash thought upon seeing Felerias.

Yagadash glared at the night elves before starting his nightly tasks. He started by lighting up several candles for the night elves, placing them against the candle holders that were nailed against the walls. Then Yagadash began to dash out the flames in the fireplace with one of his fire irons. Yagadash shut the windows and gathered up the plates and bowls from the table, both those used by himself and his family as well as those used by the night elves that he had served earlier in the day.

Felerias knew that she could gain the perfect opportunity to search the household in a moment, should things go according to plan.

Yagadash turned to face the Night elves, his tasks now finished, before speaking to them in a somewhat mistrusting tone.

"If i find anything out of place, one candlestick dropped or one spoon twiddled, by the nine divines i will have you out of my house and hanging from the tree branches… those foreign wares of yours will make great nooses." Yagadash paused, before controlling his voice in order to not disturb his children up above. "Keep the noise down or i will flog the lot of you's." Yagadash started to turn around to go to bed, but stopped himself short, uttering only four words that sounded somewhat threatening. "Have… a… good night."

Yagadash stormed off, to show that he was serious with his earlier speech.

When Yagadash reached the front of his door, he put his hand to the doorknob and opened the door to his room. Instead of finding a vacant bed, which he expected, he instead saw Sofie laying against one of his pillow's. Yagadash hastily assumed his stern parenting voice before speaking.

"Sofie, are you looking for extra chores tomorrow?"

Sofie visibly shook upright from the bed, her face showed her scared expression.

"Those things are scary… can i sleep with you tonight."

Yagadash sighed for a moment, before speaking his mind.

"Alright, lay down on the bed."

Yagadash removed his armour pieces in quick succession, placing them down on the floor in a precise and orderly fashion. When he was bare of any daedric armour, Yagadash turned his head and spoke to Sofie.

"Close your eyes."

Yagadash removed his padded garments revealing his scar adorned flesh to the night air.

Yagadash went to his wardrobe, hastily putting on his night garments a piece at a time.

"You can open your eyes now."

Sofie turned to see her father in a cream coloured night shirt that draped down to his ankles. On his head was a cream coloured night cap, which made him look ridiculous. Sofie smirked.

Yagadash walked to the bed and slowly raised the blankets, giving Sofie admission to get under the blankets.

When Sofie was safely tucked in, Yagadash walked to the other side of the bed and tucked himself in. He laid still for several moments, ready for sleep.

"Dad, can you tell me a story."

Yagadash really wanted to sleep… or to feign it anyway, but he couldn't deny Sofie's request.

"What story do you want?"

"The one with Alduin and Pafunaxe."

"You mean Paarthurnax, it's got an r in it."

Yagadash waited for a moment to regain his memory of the event and put it to words.

"So it all started with me, shivering like crazy up on a mountain top, the throat of the world the greybeards called it. Whatever its name, it offered a great view of the whole countryside… so great a view that you feel real small, tiny like an ant. By the nine, it was the greatest view in all of Skyrim. I talked with that withered old dragon for some time, and then before you know it… Crash!" Yagadash emphasised the word crash by gesticulating with his hands in a sudden wave, shocking Sofie.

"Was it Alduin?" Sofie said.

"Black scales, tall as three houses, red eyes and a horrid breath like the smell of dead fish rotting for a month. Of course it was Alduin, the black bastard. I kicked him in the sides, jabbed at him with my sword and before i knew it he had ran off… or rather flew off like a scared cat facing a rabid dog. Then i kicked his ass for a second time, he never got back up when i was done with him, same with Miraak, kicked that bastard too."

Yagadash was about to continue on, but realised that Sofie had already fallen asleep.

' _Good… i can now pay attention to those Night elves.'_

And so, Yagadash slowly uncovered the blankets covering him, and creeped slowly down to his doorknob, where he waited, listening, until he heard the sound of a trapdoor opening. They had found his smithing room, and the children's impromptu training room.

Yagadash grinned, and slowly opened up one of his chests in his room, reclaiming a vial, a potion of invisibility. Yagadash gulped the contents down and for all intents and purposes he was now invisible, and would be so for a short time, so long as he could measure his steps and keep his sound low.

* * *

Now that Yagadash was gone to his room to sleep, Felerias Evenforest went into quick action, slowly rising to her feet and blending in with the shadow of the night.

With simple hand gestures, she signalled for each night elf to search a particular part of the house for anything incriminating. On that same line of thought, anything of importance or anything that could be useful to the alliance as a whole that could be picked up and 'appropriated' was fine by Felerias.

Felerias quietly paced through the narrow chamber just past the fireplace, and when met with a door she slowly opened it, urgently trying not to create a single sound in her endeavour.

Felerias peeked through to the other side, ensuring that there was no one inside. She was met face to face with a large trophy… a wolf. Its maw was open wide so that the stunning array of sharp teeth was the first thing that one would look at, followed by the baleful eyes. In the darkness, it was a terrifying sight.

Felerias turned her head only to see more trophies. Knowing that the room would yield nothing, Felerias decided to move on to another room.

'tump'

That sound was not right. Until now, the floorboards had been affixed to a solid base, but now the floor was hollow and the sound differed in response. Felerias looked down and saw why.

Beneath her feet was a trapdoor with a large metal ring hoop acting as the doorknob.

Felerias assumed that it would lead downwards, and with no time to spare she quickly opened the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder at the side. The stench of charcoal and fresh metal immediately struck her nose; it was the smell of the smithy and of all others who made a life crafting implements out of metal. This place had to have been dedicated for the use of the heating and smithing of metal.

Felerias explored the new found area, listing down what she saw in her head.

There was a bundle of hay and a small target as well as a dummy resting to a side. On a wooden bench rested six wooden swords and one dagger made of metal and sheathed up in a wrapping of leather as well as two short practice bows and a set of several practice arrows with tip's made out of balled up waste linen, fraying from use, or perhaps overuse. The sight of the practice arrows reminded her of her own childhood, hours spent practicing with her bow at a young age.

She walked into the next room that was most-laden with the scent of smoke and ember's, there was a tiny chimney that drew away smoke, but it was very narrow and drew little smoke away.

Felerias saw that the floor around was tiled with unglazed tiles, porous and tarnished.

She saw a large wooden box filled with what seemed to be a large collection of unprocessed ores which would have to be smelted and then worked.

Felerias reached her hand out, reclaiming a chunk of ore that was black. She was not an expert at determining ores, but this material she had in her hand seemed unique and new, she pocketed it slowly.

Felerias's ears twitched, and she hastily lowered her form and retrieved her bow.

-clank-

"Having fun?"

Felerias turned around, shocked that she had not heard the orc from behind…

' _Tell me he didn't see me take his ore!'_ She thought.

The sight of him in night clothes and a night cap, it was nothing short of outlandish and ridiculous, comedic even.

The Orc's arms were held on top of his chest, stern… the gaze from his eyes and the smile on his face showed that he seemingly enjoyed the fact that he had caught her unawares.

"I feed you, provide you drinks, and you proclaim in front of my children that i should not be a father… and here you are, thieving from a 'sleeping' man."

Felerias remained silent.

"You know what is going to happen… you are going to get out of my smithy, you will climb up that ladder and you are going to gather your friends and you will all go to sleep. I knew you were a fishy person, untrustworthy like half the Khajiit's. You may not have known it, but i have a good sense for when one plans to steal my shit… i used to steal things myself, call it a gift of the trade." Yagadash then tapped his head for emphasis.

"You are not going to take offense to this?"

Yagadash laughed from deep within his belly, but the sternness remained in his posture.

"No… i rather enjoyed this… stealth thing, it gives me a chance to remember why i am the 'hero' of Skyrim. But that seething remark about my parenting was not acceptable behaviour, if i hear another remark like that again, i will kick you and your company out into the damn woods, injured or uninjured, moaning or not moaning in pain, do we have an understanding?"

Felerias gritted her teeth… "Yes"

Yagadash turned to walk away. "Good, i have killed people for less. If you say something like that in front of my children ever again, i will beat your ass down into a new plane of existence, Molag Bal will even be jealous."

Once Yagadash had arrived up the ladder, he was greeted by a bow to his face from one of Felerias's lackeys.

"Drop that, or by the nine i will be shoving it up right up your ass. Get back to bed or you will be in big trouble with Felerias."

To add to his comment, Felerias nodded her head through and gave the order to stand down.

"Drop it, return to your bed… we are not going to 'steal' from our… 'guest'."

Yagadash returned to bed… Felerias returned to her blanket.

And so, Felerias's thoughts spiralled around the event, contemplating, thinking and deriding herself and her actions.

' _That Orc is clever… too clever. I was taught manners by an Orc no less, and scolded like a schoolgirl, he could see right through me, what a fool i am.'_

Felerias's thoughts drifted back onto the man himself.

 _'He seems… to be both good and bad, a puzzle that i must solve. I need leverage, how do i use him, utilise him, could he and his powers become a useful asset to the Alliance, to the Nightelves?'_

Felerias tapped her pocket, ensuring that the piece of ore was there.

' _At least i managed to obtain this piece of ore, i will have this studied and hope that there is something unique about this chunk of rock.'_

* * *

-The Next Morning-

Felerias was squinting her eyes at the roof as the rushed footsteps of children reverberated through the floorboards.

A presence revealed itself a moment later, a cup filled with water and a pinkish-green hand. She knew it had to be the Orc, Yagadash.

Felerias grabbed the cup, smelled it, making sure that it was fine before she drank it down in a quick gulp.

"As agreed upon, you have rested here and our injuries are moot, we are healed. So, what are we to do, kill each other as we had agreed upon?"

Blaise issued his concern. "Dad…"

Felerias was shocked, but turned her head… no.

"No… i will not kill you, you have been a kind host… a… fair parent and… you… i apologise for my words and my actions… i…"

Yagadash laughed, then knocked his hand on the bench.

"Then the matter is settled. We can sit here and you will tell me about this place, and i will listen to whatever you have to say."

Felerias was shocked.

"What, are you shocked that i am not putting an axe in your belly as we speak… you can thank the children for that, as for my curiosity… well that is all me?"

Alesan, the martial boy of the family, blurted out his mock displeasure. "Aww, but i wanted to see blood."

Yagadash patted Alesan on the head, grinning. "Don't mind him."

And so, the environment became a happy one, if a bit muted.

Ydraeth, the male druid was the first to open up, and slowly, so did the rest of the sentinels, except for Felerias.

It took twenty minutes or so of light conversation before Felerias finally decided to give in, to cave in.

"Alright… i will tell you about the world and where we find ourselves… but i have to report you to Tyrande Whisperwind."

Yagadash sat down and looked at Felerias, curiosity dawning in his eyes.

"Who is he?"

Felerias corrected him. "Tyrande is a woman, our unofficial leader if you will. She is known to have a temper, and bears ill will towards your kind, though she will not let it show."

Yagadash understood.

"So i guess i am a Khajiit here, nobody will trust me, i am already used to that sentiment." Yagadash thought on for a moment. "These Orcs, do tell me about them?"

"They are part of a group called the Horde, made up of Tauren, Trolls, Goblins and Orcs. The orcs are vicious beings, cruel..."

Yagadash finished for her. "And very big and tall, they make me jealous!" Yagadash laughed at his own joke, but nobody else did.

Yagadash coughed quietly to himself, trying to excuse the awkwardness that had descended.

"Do you have a city, or town nearby? Anywhere that i can resupply?"

Felerias turned her head and spoke to her compatriots in the Darnassian vernacular. They all seemingly came to an agreement whilst Yagadash watched.

"Yes, you happen to be four leagues to the east of Astranaar… but i suggest that you avoid going there, they will kill you on site."

"For being an Orc... such a great thing armour is, and a helmet, because i can use them to disguise myself."

Ydraeth spoke. "Trader's would be reluctant to trade with you, without seeing your face."

Yagadash grinned. "A strange human norm perhaps, to wear full armour when i am shopping? If i spin the right story, traders will generally believe me and will trade regardless, especially if they are misinformed about the cultures of others."

Ydraeth nodded his head. "I spoke too soon then, you already had this thought out."

Yagadash turned to face Felerias.

"I am interested in this Tyrande, i want to meet her if that is possible, and since you said that you were going to report to her, you could take me along with you… i might even provide you with a gift in exchange, or a favour."

Felerias thought about that.

"Your black armour, and your black sword… how strong and durable are they?"

Yagadash thought about that question.

"Ebony is extremely strong and durable but hard to work with, it must be given the correct heat treatment and quenching processes or else it will become too hard and will shatter on a single strike. Daedric-made items are much the same, but the qualities of the ebony become enhanced. Daedric weapons are nearly impossible to break or damage and Daedric armour does not get crimpled or pierced in any great degree to anything except from a direct strike against something made from Ebony. The downside is weight, Daedric and Ebony items are heavier than their weight in steel, for the same thickness of steel, Ebony weights almost a third more."

Yagadash pointed to his head, which was still slightly bruised. "But… better make sure you have padding underneath, because even if the Daedric armour protects you, it doesn't absorb all the impact from a blow."

Felerias gleaned through that information; perhaps the chunk of ore in her pocket was ebony.

Felerias decided that it was time to leave, so she turned her head and spoke to her group.

"Pack everything up, Ydraeth, summon a portal to Darnassus."

Yagadash opened his mouth.

"On such short notice… If you wouldn't mind waiting for me to gather my own gear."

Felerias nodded. "Ydraeth, wait until he is ready before you cast the portal."

Yagadash spoke to his children. "Well, it seems we are going to some sort of city, which means you are all going to be on your best behaviour. You will all wear your best clothing, i wish to make an impact."

Yagadash sighed, he wondered if he was being a little overboard, but his children shrugged, they were used to being well presented for political parties. You didn't become Dragonborn and savior of the Empire without earning the gazes of important political figures.

Yagadash was deciding on what to wear for the occasion. He had his fashionable noble clothes from the Radiant raiment, in a wide array of colours and fashion styles from Morrowind to High-rock, but he could also don something a little less ostentatious. He had a fine quilted doublet which came from Cyrodiil, it was dyed black and made from fustian, with tiny red buttons built on the arm cuffs to add contrast.

Finally, Yagadash could simply wear his armour.

Yagadash walked into his wardrobe and gathered up a few sample pieces, and then presented them to the nightelves for appraisal.

"What should i wear to such an occasion when meeting with this Tyrande?"

Felerias had no thought on this.

"I don't know…"

Yagadash sighed. "So, should i go with something that will set tongues waggling, something ordinary and plain, or should i stick to my armour? What colour should i wear, what colour does Tyrande like? This is not merely me meeting with somebody important; i must make a bold statement."

Felerias could not help but ask. "Have you done this before, meet important people?"

Yagadash grinned. "Oh, nobody important, just an Emperor, a traitor called Ulfric and a few entities calling themselves daedra. Nobody special." Yagadash stuck out his tongue, his children laughing but the Night elves did not react with any real discernible emotion.

Yagadash laughed. "Well, i guess i will wear what i want to then, you sour-faced people."

Yagadash returned back to his wardrobe, and selected the clothing that he knew would make the most impact, at least the most impact from the way he saw it, not knowing any background on their culture and what appealed to their tastes.

He selected his finest, most expensive garment. It was made in a deep burgundy red, embroidered with gold detailing's of flowers, the fabric was partially pleated on the front and the sides and there were a few cut outs on the sides of the arms that were lined with fine fur. Yagadash selected a rich hat that was puffed with filling, with several plumes of well-coloured feathers hanging from one side. An amulet made of fine gold chain affixed with no less than ten sapphires was brought to hang from Yagadash's neck, the blue sapphires contrasting with the red of the fabric bringing on a new life to the whole facade. To his back was a cape made of fine cloth lined with rabbit fur, the cape was burgundy red, and the rabbit fur was black, the cape swayed with swift movement.

Yagadash wore a leather belt featuring nine square plaques made of silver, with the symbols of each god on every one, this caused anger from the Thalmor at the inclusion of Talos, which was why Yagadash insisted on wearing it when he met with the Emperor.

The result was ostentatious, an over-elaborate display. Yagadash could well be a king himself with such fine garments showing.

When Yagadash walked back to the hallway, he was greeted by the sight of awe-struck Night elves.

Sofie was the first to speak. "Dad, you are forgetting the ribbons that go around your arms and on your chest…"

Yagadash remembered the last time he wore this outfit. He was awarded with several ribbons by the Emperor for his service, which were tied around his arm or pinned onto his chest.

"Forget the ribbons; i am not wearing a single ribbon."

Sofie protested, and so did Lucia.

"Dad, you have to wear the ribbons!"

It took several attempts by his girls before Yagadash relented and gave in. He returned back to his wardrobe and grabbed the ribbon's and was about to put them on when Sofie and Lucia entered.

"Dad, can we put them on you? please"

Yagadash knew what he was in for… everything pointed to disaster, but he let them anyway.

"Fine."

Yagadash entered his room as a finely dressed man, and left a buffoon, with hanging ribbons left, right and centre. Sofie and Lucia looked at each other and nodded their heads in agreement, they thought he looked adorable.

Yagadash was almost complete, he was missing one vital bit, his fashionable sword to hang by his belt.

Alesan came forward, holding the sword in his arms and then he gave the sword to Yagadash.

Yagadash slotted the sword by the side of belt through a tiny eyelet with a black linen drawstring. The sword hung tight and free, swaying here and there with movement.

Yagadash knew that he was now ready to meet Tyrande.

Yagadash turned to face Felerias, grinning.

"Well then, Tyrande awaits. Shall we be off?"

He was after all, a self-made, slightly cocky Orsimer and he dressed to impress.


	3. Chapter 3: Swagger

Askew in a world of warcraft.

Disclaimer: Warcraft series owned by Blizzard Entertainment. Elder scrolls series owned by Bethesda.

* * *

Chapter 3: Swagger

"So, where in the nine are we?" Yagadash said.

"Where else but Darnassus, the greatest capital in all of Azeroth!" Ydraeth said, gleaming with pride upon mentioning Darnassus. "The rest of the cities are puny by comparison, especially the Orc capital… a bunch of sharp sticks and hovels pitched into the ground."

"Yeah, I see marble columns, cobbled roads and tall-ass trees… and even moving trees, i think this city of yours will do me just fine. So long as you all don't bore me with tree humping speeches." Yagadash said in agreement.

Ydraeth laughed. "You do know that i am a druid, right… that might make me a 'tree-humper', as you call them."

Yagadash grinned. "At least you have a sense of humour… more than can be said of most Bosmer, and you're not too damn short either, you won't get stepped on that way."

Ydraeth grinned. "So, where you're from, Orcs are smaller than here, right… that makes me happy for your world… no over-muscled brutes, just manageable ones."

Any retort that Yagadash was brewing left him as soon as he heard the local commentary.

"By Elune."

"What in the name of…!?"

"Hehehehe…" came the giggled laughter of Alesan, his eyes straying to and fro at the shocked city goers, after all, they had seemingly teleported onto what seemed to be a lightly crowded street.

Yagadash began to walk in an arrogant, flamboyant pose… all he did was frighten people.

Yagadash groaned inwardly, this was exactly the opposite reaction that he wanted to impose… great.

Guards came out of nowhere, pointing bows with taut bowstrings and nocked arrows directly at Yagadash.

Felerias came out in front of Yagadash with her hands outstretched…

"This… Orc, and these children, they are with me. I come under orders of Tyrande herself, in person!"

Felerias sighed in relief when the Sentinels lowered their weapons. While she knew that it was not true that Tyrande had issued her orders directly, she knew that saying so would be the quickest way for the Sentinels to lower their weapons… of course, the disciplinary action that might happen when her lie was revealed might not actually be worth it.

Yagadash responded by smugly walking up to the female Sentinels and striking a rather authoritative and rude pose… as he had seen the nobles act to servants when in Cyrodiil.

"You should all be kneeling before my splendour, how fortunate that Felerias treats you better… at least you know your place!"

Yagadash struggled to keep a closed face… almost chocking himself out with laughter, but never releasing it.

Alesan laughed and then pointed when the Sentinels faces turned red with barely held-back anger.

"Look at them, so angry… i love you dad!"

Yagadash turned and opened the floodgates, laughing boisterously alongside his son… Felerias's own face had turned sour at Yagadash's antics whilst Ydraeth laughed as well.

Nelanai, Ydraeth's companion, struck Ydraeth on the right shoulder. "This is unbecoming behaviour."

Ydraeth continued laughing for a moment, then turned around with a smug smile. "What, watching you Sentinels getting taunted at by a pompous, over-dressed Orc… how is that not funny… they can't even react back!"

Nelanai would have continued on with an argument, but simply sighed. "Damn Druids, i never get your sense of humour."

Ydraeth grinned. "What? We druids work with trees all day, humour is about the only thing that actually cracks me up."

Yagadash grew tired of pissing off the Sentinels, so he quickly stepped back and acted in a less confrontational way.

"So Felerias, why don't you point us to your leader, oh great and tall one, and present me to Tyrande!" Yagadash said, his face brightened with a smirk. Felerias hated that smirk.

-Tromp-

As though, through divine providence…a series of heavy footsteps emerged.

Ydraeth was the first to speak.

"Shit… you can try explaining this one Felerias."

Felerias, if it was possible to die inside… she almost did… it was Fandral Staghelm with his large knotted staff held in his right hand. He stood proud and tall at nearly two and a half meters long.

'Great, just who i needed… after dealing with this orc.'

"Fandral, we ar…" Felerias was cut short.

"I don't care whoever it is, this Orc should not be here… or these children… Sentinels, force them outside the city limits."

A nearby Sentinel spoke up. "Fandral, you have no authority to command us about."

"Yes… so i cannot provide you with orders, yet it is okay for an orc to mock you in the streets like an animal, look at yourselves and what Tyrande will make of you, slaves kneeling before an orc."

Yagadash spoke up, ignoring the comments from Fandral. "So you are called Fandral, right? well you seem like a very big man… perhaps you can show me to Tyrande. All i seem to get is nocked arrows pointed towards my face!"

Felerias palmed her head… she did not want to deal with the fallout that she knew was about to happen.

"And why should i do that, show you to Tyrande… you are a simple, worthless Orc, not worthy of my time… or hers."

Well, Yagadash smiled on the inside. True, he didn't want to leave a bad impression… but one tiny part inside of his being wanted to fight… and that side of him reared its head.

"Are you a druid?" Yagadash blurted out.

"I am no mere Druid… i am the Archdruid, i am beyond reproach to your kind."

Yagadash unlaced his sword from his belt, then drew it out to the side in the palm of his right hand. This action drew the attention of everyone gathered, and in response, the Sentinels readied their bows and nocked their arrows.

"Alesan, hold it for me."

Alesan quickly ran towards his father and grabbed his father's fancy sword with both hands. Alesan then retreated back beside Felerias.

The Sentinels lowered their bows and retrieved their arrows, placing the arrow-shafts within the palms of their hands.

Yagadash untied his cape, folded it until it formed a dense square of fabric and laid it down on the corner of the street. On top of his cape, he added his puffed hat where the bright plumed feathers swayed with the light breeze that descended throughout the land.

Yagadash walked into the centre of a patch of grass about forty by twenty paces wide, drawing the gazes of everyone who stood in wonder on what he was doing.

Yagadash shouted out from his spot. "Beyond reproach you say, if you are beyond reproach, then perhaps you could teach this worthless orc the error in his ways, maybe by kicking his ass in a fight perhaps?"

Fandral was shocked… but then a great smirk formed on his lips… and then a booming laugh.

"Haahahahahaha, i could step on you like a bug!"

Yagadash stamped his feet into the ground.

"I didn't doubt that you could. You are so big and mighty that you could indeed crush me… but the same can also be said of trees," Yagadash let the word slide within his mouth, whilst holding out both of his arms spread flat-out to mime a tree. "Yes, i have 'fought' many trees before, they call that woodcutting… they were all mighty and tall and they all fell down without crushing me…" Yagadash paused, anticipation roaring in his mind. "So, i wonder, do you actually know how to fight? Will you crush me, or will you fall down like a tree?" Yagadash jumped up and down at that moment, turning his arms over so that they appeared to be vertical, mocking a felled tree.

Fandral had never heard such insolence in a long time… even the Qiraji were more respectful. "What!"

Yagadash grinned, he loved doing this, enraging his opponent with taunts. "I said, will you fight like a man, or fall like a tree? Maybe make this worthless orc hold you in reproach, perhaps?" Yagadash mimed the movement of a falling-down tree again, mocking Fandral.

Fandral laughed again, both at the foolish antics, and at the idiocy of the man challenging him. "You cannot be serious?"

Yagadash turned to face Ydraeth. "Ydraeth, may i borrow your staff for a moment?"

Ydraeth stood, shock on his face…

"Yeah… but please don't break it." Ydraeth threw his staff towards Yagadash, who caught it with both hands.

"Fandral, i take it that you know all about sticks, right?" spoke Yagadash as he turned to face Fandral.

"Yes, i do know everything about staffs, or 'sticks', as you call them."

"Then why don't you prove your superiority over me, why don't you step onto this patch of grass and prove your words? Let us fight with staffs."

Fandral took the bait. He walked over towards Yagadash, sticking to the left side of Yagadash about seven meters away from him.

"The rules, i expect that these 'mortal' affairs have rules attached to them?"

Yagadash spoke. "You are right, it would be bad form to fight a duel without rules. No stepping out of bounds, that means no stepping onto the street or reaching towards the forest that way." Yagadash pointed towards the nearby forest.

"Your second rule?" Fandral said.

"No killing, that means i don't kill you and you don't kill me."

Fandral scratched at his beard. "Your third?"

"No magic." Yagadash said.

"Your fourth?" Fandral spoke.

"If i win, you have to give me that staff of yours… regardless of its value. Now you state what you want if you win."

"I don't need anything from you, Orc!"

Yagadash nodded his head. "So be it, let us begin."

Yagadash walked to a side, holding Ydraeth's staff to his right side mid-chest length with both hands spread out, as one would hold a spear. Fandral also paced to a side, taking his own stance, staff held low to his right, both hands holding it outstretched.

Yagadash looked at his opponent, looking for weaknesses to exploit. Fandral was tall, he clearly held the advantage in height, but Yagadash was an experienced combatant with years of accumulated experience and knowledge himself, even though it had been laid to atrophy for two years.

"Your form is sloppy, but the grip on your staff is good. One right hit and a bit of leverage is all i need to topple you downwards… fix your legs, your spacing."

Fandral grimaced, his opponent was right. It had been thousands of years since he had last fought… thousands of years since his son had died… his son Valstaan, who he venerated. Fandral paused, reaffirming his legwork, moving his right leg slightly backward and his left leg slightly forward and to the left, now he would be much more stable.

Fandral noticed his opponent changing stance, and took this moment to charge his opponent, partly due to rage and partly due to curiosity.

Yagadash anticipated a strike to his high chest, so he quickly changed stance and the handling of his staff. He presented the butt of the staff forwards, with both hands held more to the back.

The attack came as Yagadash had expected, the point of the staff came careening in with great speed towards his upper chest, near his neck. With grace and speed and attuned reflexes, Yagadash used the butt of his staff to knock away and direct his opponent's blow to Yagadash's right, almost to the side of Yagadash's neck. Fandral's staff was not only misdirected, he now had his weapon blocked entirely by Yagadash's side and staff, and so could not deliver another attack with his weapon. Yagadash relied upon this and used it to his advantage.

Yagadash knew that he had two choices at that moment, he could either try to entrap his opponent's staff further and proceed into a grapple, or he could proceed with a counterblow.

Within less than a quarter of a second Yagadash's reflexes decided on the later.

With Fandral's weapon missing his target entirely, Yagadash now had the freedom to commence with a lightning fast strike towards Fandral's exposed outer right arm, the only target that was within striking range.

Like one would hold a greatsword, Yagadash began his counterattack. Within a flash, Fandral felt as a painful blow was delivered to his right arm.

Yagadash quickly rushed backwards after the exchange and changed stance, presenting the head of his staff forward as though it were a spear and so Yagadash gripped it in such a manner.

The audience outside where captivated… this was a stunning event to behold. On the side, there was a small bet made by a small group of sentinels, some hoping that Fandral would get his come-uppance, whilst the others hoped that the Nightelf would win to ease from the humiliation that the orc showed towards them with his rude and mocking antics.

Yagadash was so excited at the prospect of a good fight that he had started to sing the song that he made up from his childhood.

"I am the staff, the humblest of weapons..."

Blaise and Alesan stood in shock. They knew the importance of what Yagadash was singing, it was the same song that Yagadash said to them whenever they fought in a spar. Yagadash always insisted on singing it to them, and to teach them of the importance that it held within it.

Fandral stood back, deciding on a course of action. 'What should i…'

It was at that moment, whilst his opponent was in mid-thought that Yagadash charged.

Fandral swung his staff out in a panic, hoping to sweep his enemy across the side. His attack would have worked had his opponent not ducked downwards in order to deliver a spear-like strike to Fandral's left foot. The attack was so painful that Fandral jumped upright, struggling to stand on his foot.

After delivering his spear-like strike towards Fandral's left foot, he quickly paced backwards, holding his staff as one would hold a longsword to defend with the right, with the staffs end pointed up and the butt-end of the staff held strongly with both fists.

"Humble as Julianos, when i am right…"

Fandral shouted out to his opponent, partly in rage. "What is it with your singing!?"

Yagadash continued with his pose, but spoke to his opponent in a calm manner. "When i was twelve, when i wasn't getting my ass beaten by bandits over not doing my chores, i was getting my ass beat by whichever bandit decided to teach me to fight… so i made up a song to help me remember everything… that is what i am singing now, my song."

Fandral was shocked. He had always insisted that the Orcs were little better than bandits and thieves. And while this orc was a criminal, he just happened to be honest about it, no over exaggerated tales of rape or killing or plundering, just the truth. It was that fact which shocked Fandral to an extent.

"Well then, Orc, before you lose this duel, may i hear the rest of it?"

Yagadash grinned, quickly changing his stance to that one would use with a spear.

"I am the staff, the humblest of weapons, Humble as Julianos, when i am right then i shall teach you the halberd and the spear. When i am too long, i shall teach you the pike and when i am short i shall teach you the sword. When i am broken and frail and down to size, i shall teach you the dagger. I am humblest of all weapons, and if you disregard me, you will lose."

Yagadash sighed… "I got my ass kicked so many times before i made that song, but now that i think on it, when i reflect upon it… that song, the teachings of everyone who taught me, they have stayed with me forever… from a simple stick of varying lengths can you learn the kinks of their systems, where to hold your weapon, where your feet should be, how to exploit your weapon, the size and length and weight… all of it simulated. At the end of the day, that all comes down to a length of wood… a 'stick', teaching you what to do. With years of devotion, you can truly become a master of each weapon that you want to focus on, but at the end of the day, it all comes from learning to fight with a stick. The staff is the embodiment of everything that a warrior needs to know."

Fandral laughed. "Hahahaaahahahaha, you speak so highly of yourself… yet you are no master of anything."

Yagadash stamped his foot on the grassy ground. "You are the one speaking highly of yourself, i am the one refuting that claim… and i think that unlike you, i am doing quite well… if your foot has any say in the matter."

"You bastard!" Fandral shouted before charging.

Yagadash assumed a high guard, with his staff held high above his head, staff-head facing forward and staff-butt facing to the back of Yagadash, both wrists were held firm, waiting for his opponent's action. Yagadash thought that his opponent might strike for his head.

Fandral noticed the change in stance and put it to memory.

Fandral continued to hold his staff above his head, staff-end pointed in front of him to make it seem like he was going to aim for his opponent's head. Fandral continued to hold his staff like this until the very last moment, when he changed stance.

Yagadash noticed the change, but did not have the time to react with a sufficient guard.

Fandral's staff struck Yagadash's right upper thigh with a loud slapping sound issuing in response.

"Agghh!" Yagadash shouted in pain.

Yagadash replied with a large swipe, similar as one would use on a greatsword… and struck Fandral across the outer right hand, a punishing blow. It was the only target that had presented itself within range, and Yagadash took it.

Fandral yanked his staff backwards, feeling the pricks of pain in his hand increasing incessantly.

Overall, this was both a bad and a good move from both. Whilst Yagadash delivered the more painful blows to his opponent, the attack to his right thigh was strong enough to almost break the surface of the skin, and was extremely painful and thus would have a negative impact in the future of the duel. Fandral received a solid strike on the back of his right hand, and combined with the painful strike to his left foot and the strike to his upper right arm, a bad combination, it would surely affect his ability to fight in the future of the duel.

Yagadash rushed backwards, almost tripping at the pain caused in his right thigh. Fandral was the same, his left foot struggled to keep in pace with his right one.

Yagadash drew in a quick, solid breath of air, feeling as it cooled his insides for a moment. That strike to his right thigh would impede any quick evasive responses, but Yagadash knew that the same would be true for his opponent. From now on, Yagadash planned to make continued strikes on the right side of his opponent to further wear him down on that side. Fandral had the same opinion as he too drew in a quick breath of air.

Fandral relented that this duel was improving him, and that of all people that it had to be an orc. The orc was improving Fandral and his ability to fight… he had slackened up over the thousands of years, and now all of a sudden he was regaining his old senses, albeit very slowly.

* * *

Fandral would not have it, he prepared himself to charge his opponent, but a harsh sounding voice paused this action.

"Stop, the both of you!"

Yagadash turned his head and saw a tall lady with blue hair and large elf ears. She held a large weapon with three jutting-out blades each held at an angle from the centre.

Yagadash lowered his staff and nodded his head to the figure.

Fandral spoke first. "Tyrande, it is a 'pleasure' to meet you."

Yagadash noted the sarcastic tone that Fandral used toward the word pleasure; perhaps he could use this snippet of information later on.

Tyrande gave a simple sneering look towards Fandral, then turned her head to face Yagadash.

"You are Yagadash, are you not?"

Yagadash quickly stood out as straight as he could, before performing a courteous and polite bow as he had been trained to do when in attendance with the Emperor.

"My sincerest apologies to you, esteemed high priestess, most high and loyal servant of Elune, who i am told is the goddess of light amongst your people. I am Yagadash Gro'Nolooth, also known as Lord Yagadash, also known as Yagadash the 'sunderer of dragons'. I am the lord in direct ownership of large swathes of fertile land in three provinces, from High-rock to Skyrim. I am also known as the Dovahkiin, for my voice can reach the heavens and send forth destruction on a whim," Yagadash paused, trying to reach to a diplomatic conclusion.

"I do hope that you will forgive me for my indiscretion in this matter, for my lack of good and proper judgement, and if any injustice has been done through my actions, then you may do with me as you wish, to punish me as you wish."

Tyrande remained calm. "I will not go to such extremes, i am merely angry that you must duel one another outside the Temple of Elune… from what i have heard you would not have known much about the sanctity placed upon Elune, and why it is a disgrace to fight here, which is why Fandral is to be blamed."

Fandral stood up, shocked. "He challenged me to this duel!"

Yagadash spoke up. "What Fandral says is true, i urged him into a duel with me."

Felerias spoke. "No, it was Fandral who erred Yagadash into confrontation, Fandral has berated Yagadash. I believe he said something along the lines of 'You are a worthless orc, not worthy of my time' and something along the lines of 'being beyond reproach to your kind.' obviously by that, he means orcs."

Tyrande sighed. "Fandral, i am disappointed in you. You not only offer remarks to a potential, politically important guest, you even engage him in a duel outside of the temple… get out of my sight before i attack you myself."

Tyrande turned her head to face Yagadash. "You are getting off lightly from this, though only this once. If i see you engage in such activities again, i will have you judged by an Alliance court and will have you hanging from a noose… is that understood."

Yagadash bowed his head. "Yes, i understand and shall comply with your wishes, esteemed high priestess."

Tyrande sighed. "Good, follow me."

Yagadash paused. "My children, they are coming with me."

Tyrande spoke. "Yes, they can come with you… but they had best be on their best behaviour."

Yagadash turned to face his children. "You heard her, best behaviour."

Blaise spoke first. "I am always on my best behaviour… its Alesan you should be careful of, or Sofie."

Alesan spoke in retaliation with his other sibling "Blaming the stormcloak kid, you damn Imperial!"

Yagadash was not going to stand for that kind of comment in his presence. "You, stop that speak this instant!"

Alesan sighed, then piped in. "Yes dad…"

"Good…"

Remembering the staff in his hand, Yagadash turned to face Ydraeth.

"Ydraeth, catch." Yagadash hastily threw Ydraeth's staff towards Ydraeth, who caught it at the last moment.

"Watch that, you almost hit me with it!" replied Ydraeth with surprise.

Yagadash hastily retrieved his cape and puffed hat, and after reapplying them, walked towards the path towards the temple, behind Tyrande.

Sofie rushed out and held her hand out to Yagadash's left hand. Yagadash noticed this and reached out to hold his daughter's hand. "Is there something you want?"

"That lady is scary..."

Yagadash, noticing her concerned expression, lifted her up over his head before laying her down to perch over his neck and shoulders, his hands keeping tight around her feet. "There, now you can be as tall as me, she isn't so scary now… is she?"

Sofie giggled for a moment, whilst Tyrande kept her facial expression composed. Tyrande was surprised at such a fatherly expression, especially from an orc towards a human.

Tyrande noticed as numerous eyes strayed toward the family, looking shocked. Truly, it was a marvellous thing to behold.

After a brief walk, a large statue could be seen, and a large winding staircase… of course there had to be stairs for a man carrying a child with a bruised thigh.

Yagadash managed to reach the top, following behind Tyrande whilst also ensuring that his other children were following behind him. Inwardly, Yagadash was pleased that at least this was not the 7000 steps to High Hrothgar.

"Why are you here?"

Yagadash took in a short breath before laying Sofie down to the ground.

After a momentary lapse, Yagadash come up with a believable explanation.

"To begin, i must start upon an explanation of the Aedra and the Daedra. You have deities here, and you follow your Elune just as i myself follow some of the nine. Where i am from, there are nine main gods in a pantheon who are known as the Aedra, yet there are also a few who are the opposite, they who are known as the Daedra. They are often committed to doing evil deeds… with the exception of Meridia and perhaps Azura... they being good or bad will be subject to your point of view."

"I'll play along with your game. Tell me about these… 'Daedra'." Tyrande said in a slow tone of voice bordering onto the venomous. She certainly did not trust Yagadash, and he knew that.

"I have encountered upon Azura, Meridia, Sheogorath, Hermaeus Mora and Malacath. I know the characteristics of some of them, i have even communicated with a few, but outside of that, i know little, as i am sure a great many mortals would know little of them, but i will tell you what i can."

Looking around for somewhere to sit, Yagadash took a nearby chair and set it down near the centre of the room.

"There is Azura, a Daedra who commands dusk and dawn. I was told she is very pretty, and upon hearing her voice and seeing her statue, i must conclude that she is a very pretty woman. Her realm is known as Moonshadow, which is so beautiful that it cannot be comprehended. You would think that she is a good being… but in anger she turned Chimer into Dunmer… so you had better remember that she can turn venomous if provoked. Otherwise, not too bad, and from her i received Azura's star as a gift."

Tyrande paused, looking for her own chair before sitting down.

"What about the other good Daedra, Meridia i believe."

Yagadash laughed.

"Meridia, i actually like her. She utterly despises the undead and wants nothing less than their complete destruction… this might be where her 'evilness' comes from. I suppose she has some sway over the energies of all living things as well, from what i have read on the subject. I served her by slaying a necromancer and i received a sword from her in return known as Dawnbreaker."

"So a god who despises the undead earns her own spot as a 'Daedra'… this is curious." Tyrande said incredulously. Tyrande despised the undead, remembering the crusted, shambling forms of the scourge from the third war angered her to no end.

"Yes, as a member of the Dawnguard i find myself with the same opinion, the undead are vile creatures, vampires, zombies… walking skeletons. Yet… oddly enough, the person who truly saved the world was Serana… not me." Yagadash went reticent at the last moment, remembering Serana's face, her eyes, her hair… all of it injured Yagadash.

"Who is this Serana?" Tyrande said in curiosity.

"A great woman who i once loved… she didn't feel the same way about me, so i left… i guess you could say that i retired not too soon afterwards."

Tyrande did not press the subject further, this time redirecting it towards what she wanted to know.

"You have explained about your 'Aedra' and 'Daedra', but how does this lead you to how you and your family 'arrived' here on Azeroth."

Yagadash laughed, throwing aside his guilt and sorrow and regret from the moment previously. "I must admit, that is exactly my problem… how am i here?"

"What?" Tyrande blurted out.

"Exactly. I felt no presence of any Daedra or Aedra… i can rule them out... yet a dragon with black scales and baleful red eyes arrived outside my house and muttered one word… Murezond or a derivative of that word. My house was misted by a band of black shade that was quickly vanquished by a dash of light… that was when my house appeared in what is apparently known as Ashenvale. So the question remains… how am i here?"

Tyrande sighed. "So the answer to my question is… you do not know how you arrived here?"

Yagadash grinned. "Exactly right. I don't exactly want to be here in this strange land. A land where orcs are seemingly larger then where i am from, it is all strange to me."

"I would feel sorry for you, Yagadash, but i don't," Tyrande's tone of voice dropped to a more threatening level. "I will be frank, i don't trust you at all… but you are not my enemy, 'yet'. You and your family are free to come and go to any of my peoples towns and villages, but this can also be revoked at any time should you act against me or my peoples interests… do you understand?"

Yagadash arose from his chair, and in pompous fashion, stood tall and straight before removing his puffed hat with an over exaggerated sway of his hand. A moment after that, Yagadash performed a quick and courteous bow as he had been taught to do.

"My lady, i understand every word. You don't need to threaten me, i am not easily frightened, nor do i run around the countryside killing people like Molag Bal. Your people are safe, so long as they respect me and my interests."

Tyrande spoke. "Interests… and what might that be?"

Yagadash carefully tried to avoid this subject. "I would hate to bore a woman with such a trivial matter."

Tyrande would not tolerate this, he would not fidget out around this subject. "No, you will tell me exactly what your interest is with my people."

"If you are so interested in my interests in your people, do not fret because they are solely financial. I am not only a warrior, i am also a father to my children, but i also seek to become self-sufficient through other forms. I am a blacksmith and i vie my trade in it as a side job, since i cannot risk my life as a warrior now that i am a parent. Being a blacksmith is my only way to make money. I can grow food on my property, but not in enough quantity to last for a substantial amount of time, so i will have to rely on trading or bartering for the things that i do not have that i will need. I don't care about your people, but i do care about my children, ensuring that they will have something to eat is important. As i said, a trivial matter that you obviously don't care about."

Tyrande stared an icy glare at Yagadash, but spoke in a calm tone. "You will find that not all Night elves are like Fandral, and while i don't necessarily care about you, i will make sure that your family is provided for."

At that moment, Felerias arrived to the top of the staircase.

"Felerias, as of this moment, i am assigning you to watch over Yagadash as his… 'guardian'."

Felerias looked a mix of incredulous and angry, but kept her emotions in check. She did not risk voicing her objection because that would risk losing her job as a Sentinel.

Yagadash sighed, he saw the political connotation almost immediately and set them to words. "Ahh, i see… clever. You do not trust me, but you don't want me 'removed' as it might make you look bad… so you deign to have a 'guardian' watching over my every step, ensuring that 'mister orc' obeys every rule to the letter. It's not exactly original, but it works and it makes sense," Yagadash gave a shit-eating grin. "Don't worry, i can play the part of pet orc, your highness."

Yagadash turned around to leave with an arrogant swagger, the sole intent was to piss Tyrande off.

As Yagadash walked down the stairs, his children and Felerias followed behind.

Once Yagadash reached the bottom of the staircase, Yagadash reached out for Sofie and laid her back onto his shoulders.

"Well kid's, now that I'm done with that boring old lady, let's look around for things to buy. Maybe these Nightelves have sweet rolls."

Felerias was shocked… Yagadash was a confusing person who changed moods with a suddenness and speed that could rival the tides of the ocean.

"Hey dad, what do these Night elves use as money… do you think they use septims?"

All attention turned to Felerias.

"What is a septim?" Felerias enquired.

Yagadash opened up a hidden pocket from the inside of his embroidered garment, revealing a series of small coins. Yagadash held out his hand over Felerias, before dropping the coins into her hands.

Felerias was shocked… she had a handful of actual gold coins within her hands. "While i don't think you would be able to trade with these coins as is, i am sure you could exchange these for an actual form of currency that you can use, perhaps you could ask a Goblin or a Dwarf."

Yagadash was shocked. "You have Dwemer!"

"What is a Dwemer?" Felerias replied.

Yagadash paused, then after a moment, talked. "That is a long story that i can tell to you later. You are probably going to have to stay at my house, aren't you… you are my 'guardian' after all, that means we have time."

Yagadash turned to leave, but Felerias quickly spoke up. "What about these coins in my hand?"

Yagadash grinned. "Keep them, it's probably a better wage then whatever Tyrande is paying you for, right!"

"Right, but this is a small fortune!" Felerias acknowledged.

"If you think that is a fortune, i would hate to think about what you would do if you could see my vault back in Skyrim."

And then Yagadash and his children turned around and descended onto the streets of Darnassus with Felerias trailing along.

' _Yagadash is a confusing man.'_ Felerias thought with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4: Orcy-talky

Askew in a world of warcraft.

* * *

Disclaimer: Warcraft series owned by Blizzard Entertainment. Elder scrolls series owned by Bethesda.

Chapter 4: Boom-Chowwcka-Wow-Wow.

* * *

Felerias looked on Yagadash with her eyes full of lust.

"Make love to me, you magnificent beast!"

And, with pouting lips, she kissed that Orcish man across the lips, her tongue sliding across his right tusk.

Yagadash looked in shock. Now, he wasn't one to turn away from such things as this, normally he had to pay a certain particular kind of lady with a certain amount of coin for this kind of thing to happen... but when such a thing occurred this suddenly, with someone that he had a level of respect for... well that was just awkward... and he was a foppish orc here, nothing is more awkward than that.

 **NO!**

There was only one thing that Yagadash knew which could cause a relationship to develop this quickly in a story...

So, Yagadash shouted forth with his dragon tongue, in magical words that sounded in Modern English much like this... " **Break...** " " **Fourth...** " " **Wall!** "

For you see, Yagadash knew that this was some kind of a joke, written by an Author who seemingly wanted to cash in on the whole 'Valentines day' thing, being that this is Capitalism and such. Alas, the Author was not lucky on such a day to find a big-breasted broad to lay his hands upon... or have those hands laying upon him and such... ahhh, but he did decide that this story needed to be posted, that foul person, making people wait for a whole year, what an asshole!

Yagadash coughed for a moment, looking up at the sky. Then he spoke.

"Roll the chapter, the real one this time, mister Author-man... Don't make me kick your ass into a new plane of existence!"

"Duly noted." Yagadash heard the Author say.

But this Author knew that someday, someday... He would write another joke again, would it be Christmas, would it be Halloween, maybe even the Authors birthday, June the 21st would be open to satire... and Yagadash would be none the wiser, for the Author wields in his palms the power of Deus Ex Machina. Within his gleeful hands, he held all the power.

"Duly noted my ass!" The author finally spoke.

And putting things to order, the Author began to write. See, look down there, that's a line-seperator thingy... I can do that, It's magic I tell you, Magic, makes things look neat!

* * *

Chapter 4: Orcy-talky.

* * *

Two day's had passed since Yagadash, family and all met with Tyrande. Two days… two whole days!

Felerias groaned at that fact… and sullenly mourned her past days with growing passion.

Yesterday, there were arguments amongst two divisions, two factions of Yagadash's children drawn on two equal sides, the wrong-doers and those who had done right.

It had started out with a paper sheet of scores laden out on the wall, a list of chores that were to be done on this or that day. Felerias thought that it was an excellent idea two days ago… but she found out a day later how wrong that assumption of be.

Twice, Felerias saw as one of the children lied, scrawling down their name over someone else's, removed their sibling's name and quickly leaving. Felerias didn't raise the question with Yagadash at the time, she didn't want to interrupt the family and its inner workings.

Invariably, it was that fact, the sole fact that some of the children lied, and the fact that those who did the chores took the blame from their father, these were the cause of yesterday's arguments. A fight broke out amongst the children. Yagadash interceded and soon discovered that he had been lied to. With iron-haste, Yagadash quickly apologised to the two children that were wrongly accused of not finishing chores.

Yagadash then turned to the rabble-rousers and raised his voice to a great depth, such that metaphorical mountains would shake from the volume. Indeed, Felerias thought she could see branches quaking from outside the house.

The two wrong-doing children stood blank-faced and slightly scared as their father spoke on and on for roughly six minutes about honour and duty and about doing the right thing. One of the children did a 'pretend' yawn during it… and got chewed out in prompt fashion by their father.

Felerias thought that it was interesting and somewhat comedic hearing about honour from an orc. Felerias quickly stopped herself from that track of thought, because he was an 'Orsimer' orc and not a horde orc. That difference itself was made more apparent with each passing day. Felerias thought that she would not mind getting along with the 'Orsimers'… if all 'Orsimer' were like Yagadash.

Today though, Felerias relented, was full of repeated hammer-swings… the sound they made reverberated through the cellar and into every plank of wood inside the house.

If Felerias was hung-over… she knew she would be out puking from the window-sill by now. In her sober state though, she felt every reverberation through her head… and the memory of her sleep-hungry dreams were vanished to dust. This racket, this being awoken early in the morning, it was unholy sacrilege on a Saturday morning!

Felerias clothed herself and rushed down to the cellar, words cocked deep within her mouth and ready to be released on the Orc upon sight.

But, she stopped herself from slinging a barrage of crude-words when she saw the two right-doers and their Father working on a red-hot piece of metal.

"That is not right Blaise, when I strike my small hammer and leave, you strike with your large and stop after… I set the strike and you follow along."

Blaise looked up at his Father's guidance. Yagadash looked down at his son and saw how fatigued that Blaise really was.

"Alesan, take over from your brother."

Blaise visibly shook, but followed along with what his father had said and passed on the large hammer to his brother.

Alesan smiled whilst Blaise quickly pulled up a chair and started to watch the scene intently, eager to learn more about the beginning arts of smithing.

Yagadash quickly reached for his tongs that were hanging off a pouch inside of his leather apron, then seized the heated metal and set it back inside of the forge for several moments.

"Alesan, get ready… follow along with my swings."

Yagadash hastily retrieved the now red-hot piece of metal and set it back down onto the anvil before setting the tongs down and retrieving his small hammer.

"Alesan… on my strikes."

Yagadash, with his experience, eyed down were it was best to proceed onwards, and struck his hammer downwards over that very spot.

Yagadash lost his nerve when Alesan almost sledged him across the wrist.

"ALESAN!"

Alesan paled backwards and almost cried out.

Yagadash gave out a quick breath and tried to cool the situation down, whilst getting his son to continue striking down with his large hammer. "Forget my anger Alesan, hit… hit… hit the metal!"

This time, Alesan tried again. For four solid strikes, Alesan succeeded.

But, on his fifth strike, things changed.

"Alesan, follow my strikes, don't charge ahead."

Alesan tried again, and was somewhat successful. Then with eagerness and overconfidence, Alesan began to exert more and more force into his swings, growing more and more wild with each successive strike.

"No, don't do that… this is metal, ease the metal, work with it, don't force it… this is not a troll's skull!"

"But Dad…"

Yagadash with his nerves struck, responded like fire.

"Don't Dad me, work with the flow of things or leave!"

Taking the comment with full force, Alesan quickly dropped the hammer and left, tears in his eyes.

Blaise quickly took up the fallen hammer and struck as he did before, this time with a new eye for things.

Blaise appraised Alesan's performance of what did not work when he saw Alesan's swings and what did work. With the previous experience of having used the hammer before, Blaise took his combined experience with what he saw his father doing visually, and began to make an educated guess on what to do, or on how best to do so.

Yagadash struck, and so Blaise returned with a light but firm swing towards the metal with the heavy hammer. Yagadash struck again, and Blaise returned with a similar strike, and over time the metal took shape, from a block of metal to a half-formed bar of steel.

Yagadash stopped his swings, dropped his hammer and seized his tongs again, dropping the heated metal back into the forge.

Yagadash turned around for a moment and looked towards his son with a proud expression both in his face and in his voice. "Blaise, like music, ting-ting-ting. That is the noise of a blacksmith, Blaise keep this up!"

Blaise, being shy, responded even-handedly. "I watched Alesan and thought I should not strike too powerfully, but also to follow the sound… like you told us to."

Yagadash retrieved the now red-hot metal from the forge with a grin on his face. "Your swings could use more weight behind them, actually." Yagadash dropped the red-hot metal back onto the flat surface of the anvil before retrieving his hammer. "But, until you start striking perfectly every time, focus on hitting on the tune, it's not all about strength… this is what Alesan needs to learn."

Yagadash struck the metal, and Blaise followed to the tune as best he could, his young mind trying to detach himself from everything, only to follow the tune of the hammer strikes.

When Yagadash stopped striking and returned the metal back to the forge for reheating, Blaise issued a quiet statement.

"Dad… about Alesan, please be nicer to him."

Yagadash turned, face struck with shock. "What about him, what do you mean?"

Blaise quietened for a second, thinking up on what to say. "Dad… he looks up to you… I think what you said earlier hurt him. Please do something about it."

Yagadash was about to reply back… but, thinking about the subject more, stopped himself. Yagadash quietly took a hand around Blaise, surprising his son and forcing him close before scratching through his son's hair.

"Such a caring person, Blaise, I will talk to him."

Blaise quietly murmured aloud. "Please don't say it was me…"

Yagadash laughed aloud. "Oh, afraid I might tell your brother how much you care about him?"

Blaise sighed to himself. "No, I just don't want to be teased."

Yagadash turned back to the forge, retrieving the red-hot metal by the tongs.

"Son, you are Twelve years old now… if you get teased, kick-em in the balls."

Blaise blurted in shock. "Dad… I would get in trouble!"

Yagadash grinned. "As long as whoever you kick isn't the son of someone important, or a dragon, it should be fine… just make sure you run away before anything happens."

Felerias, feeling that she was now intruding, turned to leave.

-thump-

' _Damnit!_ ' Felerias thought as she clumsily knocked into a table on her left side.

The sound of the disturbed table carried through the room, drawing all attention to herself. Yagadash didn't care all that much, while Blaise on the other hand saw Felerias and felt as his cheeks burned red.

Yagadash noted that with a smile, knowing exactly what that meant.

"Don't mind Blaise here, he is very shy around attractive women."

Felerias was about to speak up, but was interrupted.

"Dad, Felerias is not an attractive woman…"

Felerias's ear's twitched and pangs of repressed anger rose within her mind.

Yagadash laughed. "Ahahahahaha, Son that is cruel."

Blaise lowered his head slightly, humiliation present. "She… well… Felerias… I mean you are a beautiful girl… I just… umm… well…"

Felerias sighed to herself, before calming the boy down. "It's alright, I think I know what you are trying to say."

Blaise looked up again, a smile forming on his face. "You do?"

Felerias decided to apply humour. "Yeah, you think that my boobs are too big, don't you."

Yagadash rolled his eyes, and then laughed at Blaise's comment.

Blaise was shocked… he didn't know how to reply. "Err… I don't mind them as they are."

Felerias stuck out her tongue to the boy, before easing the situation. "I'm teasing you, boy."

Blaise smiled again. "I know… I'm used to my dad's comments by now, he does this all the time. I'm just not used to a girl making jokes, an adult girl."

Felerias nodded her head, before deciding to offer her own question to the group. "So, what are you two doing?"

Yagadash shrugged his shoulders. "Baking a cake… what do you think it looks like we're doing?"

Blaise grabbed the large hammer, but turned his head to face Felerias. "We are stretching out this lump of steel to make a sword out of it."

Yagadash struck his hammer down. "Yes, that."

Felerias noted a lack of sparks from each strike. "Are you two working with good steel? I've noticed a lack of sparks from your hammer strikes."

Yagadash quickly turned his face, stopping his hammer as he did so, an expression of surprise showing. "Yes…you've worked with metal before?"

Felerias shook her head sideways, no. "No, but I do like to watch blacksmiths working, sometimes they tell me about this or that, or about the processes, but I don't know anything beyond that."

Yagadash assumed a quick smile… Felerias knew that smile all too well. "Well, what do you think of me… working?"

And, after letting that word slide on his tongue, Yagadash assumed a 'heroic' pose, showing off his muscles. Felerias rolled her eyes… to her it was more apt to say that it was a horrible, revolting pose.

Felerias quickly turned her back and left.

Yagadash however, laughed. "Hahahahaha, leaving huh… you're just jealous of my beauty!"

Blaise took a breath, taking reprieve in the fact that he had a brief time to rest his aching arms.

Yagadash turned his head back to face the now cooling metal.

"Hey dad…"

Yagadash looked to his son, concern showing. "Yes son."

Blaise quietly sighed to himself for a moment, composing himself before speaking. "Do you like Felerias… _in that way_ …?"

Yagadash picked up on what his son was trying to say, and immediately offered his reply. "Not romantically, no. I do like her because she is an attractive woman with a brain in between her ears, but she's a bit annoying, especially when she offended me by saying I shouldn't be a parent to you all. Anyone who says that will get an ass-beating."

"So you would have sex with her then?"

Yagadash quickly fixed in on the word sex… then laughed to himself upon realising that this was the first time that his twelve year old son had ever said that word to his face.

"No, yes, why are you asking? Do you want a mother?"

Blaise quickly nodded his head up and down. "Well, it would be nice having one… I like Felerias, I don't know why though… I just feel like she is a nice person."

Yagadash dropped his hammer down on the anvil before reaching his hands out to hold onto his son's shoulders. "I know… I will try to find a woman to settle down with who is good to us all."

Blaise dropped the large hammer to rest on the side of the anvil then gave his father a hug. "I liked Serana too, dad."

Yagadash sighed to himself. "Sometimes things don't work out like we want them to. I am sure she had a reason why, perhaps she was afraid she would hurt us."

Blaise withdrew from his hug, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah… I think you are right. Sometimes I just don't get it… but other times I try to figure out why Serana just disappeared on us."

Yagadash quickly tried to think about something else… anything else to escape Serana and his memories of her.

Yagadash brought a smile to his face, trying to ease the tension. "What about Lydia? She would make a fine mother…"

Blaise giggled at his suggestion. "She can barely cook… she would also strangle Lucia for not doing the dishes…"

Yagadash laughed. "Aye, she would also get angry at Sophie for tracking dirt in the house… or accost her for trying to sell flowers without a trading license."

Blaise smiled. "Oh, Alesan would love her… tell me about the battle of Whiterun he would say, she'd probably run out of stories to tell before too long."

Yagadash laughed. "Remind me not to date Aela either, Alesan would bother her all the time with questions!"

* * *

-Three days later-

Otaktay Strongwhisper carefully stalked his way through the brush, finding his destination after a few moments.

' _An interesting house of wood. It's crafted differently than most of what I've seen before.'_

The warchief, ever the careful sort, had employed spies through most of the capitals of the Alliance's races. They received word of a orc who was very human-like, and furthermore, that he was the cause of the magical disturbance that rocked through the world for a split-second.

Before he could think further, he felt an impact against his chest. Upon reflection, he realised that a toy arrow had just bounced off of his flesh, imparting more of a shock than any real hurt.

He looked further onwards and saw his attacker, a human girl.

"What do you want, cow-man?" this girl asked in a snarky, slightly amused tone. "And don't think of coming closer, Or I'll hit you in the balls!"

Otaktay let out a big, hearty laugh in reply.

To this, the Tauren felt an impact on his thigh, near that certain part of his anatomy that she said she would target. He shut up at that.

And then he saw a Night elf appear from the house, an arrow nocked and pointed right for him, a real one this time.

"Tauren... back away from the child, or I will kill you!"

Otaktay sighed. It seemed he was dealt the short straw with this mission, the threat of emasculation by a child was not something he should usually consider, amusing though it was. "Night Elf... do you know of a man called Yagadash? I was told to relay a message to him, on the behest of the warchief, Thrall."

"For what purpose?" The night elf said.

Otaktay looked to the night elf, unfurling a piece of parchment from a satchel. "I do not know, I was told to hand this message into the hands of Yagadash himself and then I was told to return back to Orgrimmar by portal."

The Night elf sighed to herself, pulling the arrow from her bow before calling out into the house. "Yagadash, you have an... 'important' visitor!"

Otaktey heard shouting back a moment later. "Alright alright... you sour-faced blue lady, I'm coming I'm coming!"

After a few moments, a figure emerged, roughly six feet in height. He was dressed in a white robe that reached down to his ankles, and wore a cap over his head. It seemed as though he had just got out of bed.

"Good day..." The 'orc' looked him up and down. "You're a Tauren then, I take it? Your name?"

Otaktay quickly responded back. "Yes, I am Otaktay Strongwhisper of the Horde. I was sent here to relay this message to you."

Yagadash slowly moved towards the Tauren, taking the message within his hands. He removed the seal and began to read what was written.

After a few moments, Yagadash smiled, turning his head to face Felerias. "Well then, 'guardian'... look's like you get to 'follow' me to Orgrimmar."

Felerias quickly blanched at the prospect. "What!?"

Yagadash ignored that for a moment, instead his attention was focused on his daughter, who held her bow out towards the Tauren. "Put that bow down, Lucia. Don't you go making trouble again!"

Lucia pouted her lips. "But!"

Felerias quickly piped in. "I believe she shot the Taur..." Felerias quickly paused to recall the Taurens name. "Otaktay... she shot him in the chest, threatened that she would hit him in the balls, and then shot him on the leg when he laughed at her threat."

Lucia quickly loosed a toy arrow at Felerias whilst she quickly shouted out in protest. "You damn traitor!"

Felerias gave Lucia a quick glare before flicking out her tongue towards the girl.

Yagadash palmed his head . "Otaktay... It seem's you've met my 'guardian'... Felerias, and my daughter, Lucia. She is... quite the character. Don't worry though, my other daughter is far nicer... In fact, she's right over there by that window sill, watching us right now." Yagadash pointed her out to the Tauren.

Otaktay looked up, a smile showing on his face as he looked towards the girl. The girl quickly ran away in response.

"Don't mind Sofie... she get's shy around new people." Yagadash then gave a quiet cough. "So... why don't you come inside then?"

Seeing no reason why he shouldn't comply, Otaktay lowered his head and followed behind the Night elf and Yagadash.

Otaktay had to admit that he liked the interior, it was well crafted... but he found himself liking the murals on the cross-beams, the depiction of wolves and warriors carved delicately, and the scrolling pattern on one of the sides. Yagadash noticed that and quickly piped in. "I did all of that... you don't want to know how long all of that took me. Nordic carving is the best, in my point of view, it just... has that rustic charm about it."

Otaktey was intrigued, he had never heard of that word before. "Nordic?"

Yagadash struggled to find a way to explain. "Azeroth has humans... of differing kingdoms, yes? Humans from where I come from are similar but different to those here, these Nord's are born from humans that came from Atmora, who traveled to a land called Skyrim, who battled snow-elves and would eventually form an empire. These Nords are great warriors who are well attuned to the cold. They are very warlike, Hah, I love them... but that is practically because I am raised Nord!"

Otaktay was shocked. "What?"

Yagadash grinned. "Well, I was an orphan raised up by Humans... heh... and bandits too. I've heard that the Orc's here have a hatred of humans. But that is not necessarily the case for our Orc's. We are some of the finest warriors for the Legion, hah... let me show you something."

Yagadash quickly pointed out towards a mannequin that was facing the back of the house. "Do you see that, that's Imperial armour. There are thousands just like it, Humans, Orc's, Elves... they all fight in the legion. I fought in that very armour, I toppled a regime that sought to make a civil war in my homeland, in that very armour. I am a successful land owner, you could call me a lord. I think I owe most of that success to the Legion. I'd say, all things considered, that I've done pretty well for myself. Of course, your humans may well be different from our humans, but I'm not dismissive of those pink people... they prove themselves too damn capable. Great looking women, too!" Yagadash grinned at that thought.

Otaktay had committed all that Yagadash had said to memory, trying his best to hide the shock of Yagadash's words. This was important information to have on hand.

Yagadash sighed. "So, this note says that Thrall usually expects a small gift in exchange for hospitality... what would be a great gift then? swords? armour? gold? I must after all, make an appearance!" Yagadash then did a dramatic swaying of his hands.

Felerias quickly knew where this was going and palmed her face in response.

Otaktay nodded his head slowly, he was confused by the eccentric 'orc'. "Thrall will be happy to receive any gift that will benefit towards the Horde."

Yagadash quickly assumed a swaying gesture. "He'd hate roses, then... Hahahaha!" After a moment, Yagadash grinned. "I think I have a few things that might work. Allow me some time to ready my children and I. I cannot let my appearance be shoddy, I didn't get this far to look like a peasant."

And so Yagadash quickly proceeded to gather up an assortment of objects and other goods. Upon reflecting on what he himself would like as a gift, Yagadash proceeded to gather up a cask of spiced wine. He then grabbed an extra snowberry crostata that he had baked yesterday. Then he looked through for some gold and silver goods that might make for a nice gift and settled on a gold necklace. It was braided of four gold wires by two silver wires that were coiled tightly into chain links with a large ruby jewel hanging from the bottom that is surrounded by eight garnets, six emeralds, four small sapphires and six pearls. The visual effect was ostentatious... but a little too much for Yagadash's taste. He had it made at the request of one of the finest jewelers in all of Tamriel for the meeting with the Emperor. He hadn't worn it again afterwards, but it would be more than fitting for a gift. He also gathered up a golden ingot and two bags full of septim's, that tinkling sound as they jiggled was a heavenly fracas of metal against leather... he counted it all out to thirty coins per bag, and he personally scraped each one of those coins against his tusk to ensure that they were of good gold, anything that scraped against the teeth was likely an inferior, counterfeit coin that was mixed with another metal than gold. He also ensured that their was no evidence of clipping, none was found, the coinage was sound.

He also mused over whether he should have added in two book's to the collection, notably 'The Lusty Argonian Maid one and two'... as a practical joke. Sure, it might not seem diplomatic... but Yagadash wasn't trying to be diplomatic, at least not fully. No... this was for a laugh... Orc's loved this kind of joke... from Yagadash's own experience with his own people at least. Surely it wouldn't go down wrong, would it?

But he later relented and realised that making the right first impression was the most important thing, instead of some lame joke or prank.

And, since he had everything of note, he bagged all those items up into a burlap sack that was otherwise lying around, unused.

Then he shouted out through the house, his voice a-booming, such that it shook the vases and the window-sills. "Get dressed you lot, I want you in your best clothing!"

And after saying that, he went to his room, readying himself in the exact same fashion with the same clothing that he wore when he went to visit Darnassus and Tyrande, although he decided to adorn his Ebony longsword rather than his fashionable arming sword on this occasion at his hip. He came out of his room and spotted his four children lined up for his appraisal, all of them dressed in their best, colourful clothing greatly tailored to fit their forms and make them look like little, noble adults, the sight was adorable to him, those little dragonborns. They looked huggable, and that was exactly what Yagadash did, he brought them all around his arms and he hugged them all into a tight little ball, they were apprehensive. "Dad!" was the word that all four children uttered at the near-same instant.

Felerias was greatly amused, Otaktey was wildly confused, and Yagadash was simply smiling with a devilish grin. "Mutiny, I shall not have it! You four oafish louts dare refuse the hug of a son of akatosh, don't you dare make me kick you down to Coldharbour!"

Yagadash pulled away from his hug after a moment, now adopting a serious tone. "Be on your best behaviour, you know what I mean."

Yagadash rolled his shoulders back and forth for a moment before speaking. "So, Orgrimmar, right?"

And before he knew it, A portal had opened.

* * *

The reception seemingly didn't go down well... to put it in the kindest terms. _'This might not have been the best place to have brought my children.'_ Yagadash thought on reflection. Sofie was positively terrified.

Everywhere he looked, Orc's were looking at his family and himself as though they had no rights to exist, and the looks the Nightelf received... that was some true hatred right there. The blue people that he heard were called 'trolls' were less 'in your face' about it. The small people called 'goblins' didn't really care. There were a few of those 'blood' elf thing's, though he didn't know why they were called 'blood' elves as Felerias was reluctant about providing information on them.

Seeing the hatred she got from what few 'blood' elves their were though... well Yagadash wasn't a complete fool about such things. That hatred was likely earned in some fashion.

"Hey, I know I'm martial... I get that... but this?" Yagadash turned to face Felerias. "I don't act like that, right?"

Felerias smirked. "You do... just not to that level. You don't stare at people like you want to destroy them completely and utterly."

Yagadash sighed. "You think I need to beat some sense into them... should I 'Fandral' 'em?" Yagadash finally added onto his comment in a sarcastically mournful way. "This Is getting kind of tiring, beating everybody up. I already earned my retirement from the amount of dragons I've had to slay... and civil war, vampire war, killing... and stuff."

Fortunately... and Yagadash didn't know which Aedra or Daedra to thank for such fortune... A group arrived which pushed them away. Otaktey smiled at this... he also didn't like the reception, and he was also a horde member, but he, like most Tauren, favored tempered reactions over outright violence or aggression. "Those men are of the Kor'kron, please note their armour so that you might remember who to look for in this great city if something goes wrong for you or your family... As you can see, the people here can be violent. The Kor'kron guard are the houseguards of Thrall, the Warchief. Nothing should go wrong, you are guests here, and Thrall will ensure that any wrong-doers will be exiled to the Barrens."

Alesan hastily raised his voice, observing an Orc who was seemingly laughing at his father... a man surrounded by the 'Kor'kron' with a big wolf pelt over his head. "Hey dad, who is the one with the wolf on his head?"

Otaktey scanned the group, noticing the man who wore a wolf-pelt over his head. "Ahhh, that man is Nazgrel. I have heard that his loyalty to the warcheif is unwavering."

Alesan decided to be brash. Sure, he was surrounded by scary orcs and cow-men, and blue-men with three fingers, and little people with big noses... but so what, his new dad was an Orc, his new dad was awesome. This was how Alesan felt, within his heart. He also had a reputation to maintain, he did, afterall, represent the 'Nords', he was going to prove that he was worthy.

And thus Alesan rushed towards the group of Kor'kron guards, approaching in front of the wolf-headed man who was called Nazgrel, of course, he wouldn't say that, being who he was at his age and for how much the lack of his name would belittle the tall orc-man. "Hey, Wolf-man... Did you kill that wolf that you are wearing?"

Nazgrel didn't know how to react, not with children, and especially not with human children. Was the little boy taunting him? Or just being curious?

Nazgrel replied back truthfully. "Yes..."

Alesan couldn't help with the manner in which he replied. "Have you killed a Dragon? My dad has killed at least twenty... and ended a civil war!" And, Alesan made sure to shout this out, to ensure that the people heard him. He hated those looks, those judgemental looks that he and his family and especially his father received. His new dad advised him to not be judgemental in life, and though he tried to ignore his father on that matter, especially with Blaise, the looks he saw here were on a new level, and incited him to action. "You hear that, my dad might be strange, his clothing might seem outlandy... outland-strange, you may laugh at my dad, but you cannot even hold a candle to my father, he would beat you all!"

For a second time, Nazgrel was shocked. _'This kid...'_

Blaise, being the more tempered child, hastily tried to stop the situation from growing further heated. "Alesan, stop!"

And to further incite things, Lucia stepped in. "Yeah Alesan, tell them. Don't look at people like that unless you have something to prove, My dad will rip off your balls!

Yagadash was watching the situation unfold with confusing amounts of pride for how his family were sticking together and trying to defend him as a person, the way that Alesan referred to him as a father, but he also felt anxious for being put on the spotlight as well as anger for how his children were inciting conflict that he was trying to avoid. _'What in the Nine divines do I do now?'_

 **"Children!"** Yagadash shouted, his tone was the like of which his children had not heard before.

However, it had no affect. What the children had set in motion could not be stopped. A few Orc's rushed in, trying to grab at his children... Yagadash put both of his hands to his longsword and released her from it's sheaf. The ebony blade, beautifully sheening, was set in a ward placed to hover behind Yagadash as he ran, the sword like a tail behind him.

Alesan shouted out again to the orc who was trying to threaten him, the orc that was rushing towards him with hostile intent. "Hah, do it, kill me... I'll go to Sovngarde!"

Otaktey quickly grabbed Sofie and Blaise by the wrists and pulled them up above his head while he stomped around, trying to dissuade any would-be attackers.

Felerias, noting that her bow would be useless from such close distance, threw one of her glaives towards an onrushing Orc, killing him as it hacked through his arm and bit into his ribs, he bled profusely, the outjutting blades sticking out crudely, it was a nasty sight. That man stared at his wound with his face in disbelief... his axe dropped to the ground with a small thud, and then that man fell down, moaning in pain before dying.

Yagadash rushed towards Alesan, who was about to be grabbed and thrown to the ground, but Yagadash shouted aloud, his heart racing with adrenaline, fear and anger. " **WULD NAH KEST!** "

And, using the dash of speed to his advantage, stepped in with his left leg and hovered his blade upwards, the pommel laid against the back of his right wrist, that motion smooth and well practiced, and with that upward stroke, like paint to a canvas, came blood. The momentum was great, the strike honed, and the Orc who dared to hurt his son was lacking an arm.

Yagadash followed through with this strike by stepping in with an attack from above with his right leg moving forward, his hips aiding him in his effort. The strike came down with grace. The blade lodged itself through the orc's skull, It was not a pretty sight, and Yagadash had to kick the corpse in order to free his blade, lodged into the skull as it was. It was brutal, a brutality that Yagadash was used to. This primal rage slow-tempered by years of experience, It was a feeling that he knew, a feeling that he somehow missed, with reluctance. His family was the most important thing now, in his heart. _'Nothing more, nothing less, Malacath preserve my children!'_

The Kor'kron guard quickly formed a defensive circle around Yagadash's group, and the city promptly returned back to normal. This apparently was not a complete unknown in the city of Orgrimmar, although not exactly common.

Nazgrel looked down to the boy who started this event. "Well human, look at what you've done. Your 'father' c..." But Nazgrel was interrupted by Yagadash.

" **Alesan, Lucia, here!** "

Felerias knew exactly what was about to happen. Yagadash held up both children by the neck of their clothing, he said nothing, but his face showed everything. After what felt like a minute, he released his grip.

Yagadash turned to face Otaktey. "Return them home... now. Felerias, go with him." Yagadash felt wrong with the way that sounded. "Please." He finally added, his expression showing his concern to Felerias, who in turn quickly nodded her head.

Yagadash was not happy. Not at all. His good mood was sufficiently ruined. He could have handled everything completely fine by himself. _'Have I failed at being a parent, like Felerias said I have?'_

Otaktey lowered both Blaise and Sofie down to the ground. Yagadash noticed them and spoke to his two other children, trying to raise his mood. "Well, at least you two can come with me, if you want? You can have anything you want!"

Blaise tried his best to form a smile, but he couldn't. He did however, grab Sofie by the shoulders and enticed her to go along with him. "Come on, he said anything. Maybe he will get you something new to play with, like Nipper?"

Sofie came along, begrudgingly and only when she held onto Blaise's hand.

Nazgrel sighed, speaking directly to Yagadash. "Time to meet Thrall."

* * *

Yagadash had calmed down by the time that he entered Grommash Hold. He also saw one of those 'Trolls' at attendance, as well as a few Kor'kron guards.

Thrall was the first to speak. "I see you have found yourself into the fine city of Orgrimmar," Thrall paused for a moment upon seeing the children. "Who are these children?"

Yagadash gave a polite bow, waving his puffed hat from side-to-side as he had seen in Cyrodil. "Your excellency, Great Chieftain of the Horde who Is known as Thrall. I am Yagadash Gro'Nolooth, I am also known as Lord Yagadash, also known as Yagadash the 'sunderer of dragons'. I am a lord who has the direct ownership of large swathes of fertile land in three provinces, from Skyrim to High-rock. I am also known as Dovahkiin, after my voice, the very voice of the dragon tongue, my very voice that can send forth destruction on a whim. I must extend to you my apology for my," Yagadash paused, bringing up his children's names off his tongue with a grimace. "Alesan and Lucia's actions."

Thrall was very confused by this, he had no idea about what had occurred outside. Nazgrel quickly informed his leader with his report. "His son was angered by the stares that his father had received... and 'defended' his 'fathers' honour." Nazgrel tried his best to appease Thrall, and after a reluctant moment he told him of his own possible involvement in that event. "I feel as though... I am 'somewhat' responsible, I should not have laughed at Yagadash's 'appearance'."

Thrall spoke up. "I... see."

Nazgrel quickly replied back. "One of his other sons... that one on the left of him right there." Nazgrel quickly pointed out next to Yagadash, towards Blaise. "He tried to stop his 'brother'. But then one of his daughter's incited the situation further. Two of our men are dead, both of them tried to reach for his children, to stop them. Yagadash killed one, and the Night-elf killed the second, both of them were of the Warsong clan."

Thrall gestured for Nazgrel to come closer, enough that Thrall could whisper into Nazgrel's ear. "Ensure that Garrosh does not find out about this until later... I don't care what you have to do, do it."

Thrall waved Nazgrel away before turning back to face Yagadash. "I won't be requesting any 'reparations', not at this point."

Yagadash turned to face Blaise, gesturing for him to move forward.

Blaise, remembering his own tutoring about how to act like a noble, quickly spoke in a level and even tone. "I, Blaise, son of Yagadash, offer you this gift, at the request of my father, Lord Yagadash. May it serve you well and find value with you, Thrall, Great Chieftain of the Horde. May Shor guide you, and Akatosh preserve you"

Blaise then moved forward, bowing on every third step. He lowered the burlap sack down to the ground, and returned back to being behind his father, turning and bowing towards Thrall on every third step.

Vol'jin came towards the burlap sack and opened it up carefully, alert for any form of devious intention. Vol'jin calmed down when nothing bad was revealed.

Thrall looked at the contents. Examining them carefully.

Thrall hefted the necklace in his hands, observing the item closely with an eye towards the detailed object in his palm. He was impressed by its construction. He wasn't normally impressed by pretty baubles, but he had to admit that the craftsmanship was excellent, it could surely be sold for a sum of money. Vol'jin was also impressed. "It be like a Dwarf made it."

Yagadash smiled, speaking up again with pride. "Dwemer? No, that was made by Madesi, he used to be poor, but now he has a shop called 'Legendary Argonian craftsmanship', he became renowned because of my 'patronage', I only wore it once to court, now he probably struts around in Riften, pissing off Mavel Black-briar with his success."

Thrall remembered the words that Yagadash mentioned mentally whilst he checked through the contents, he was going to bring these up later. "San's spiced wine?"

Yagadash answered back. "Evette San sells that in Solitude, the main Imperial city in Skyrim. Ever since I had my first drop, I have been a humble patron. My endorsement alone saw her into being a successful merchant in less time than it took me to say it, It's become fashionable to drink it in the court... Hah, I might drive the Cyrodilic court to alcoholism!"

Thrall looked to the next item, a small object wrapped up in a small, delicate box. Thrall opened the box and saw some kind of pastry dish.

Yagadash answered for Thrall. "Snowberry crostata, fresh out of my oven." Yagadash refused to mention that it was fresh out of his oven... from yesterday. It would still taste good, though, so it was not worth mentioning.

Thrall didn't know what to do with the small pastry, but Vol'jin took it from Thrall and took a bite, his facial expression showing visual delight and ecstasy. "Dis be good man."

Thrall finally grabbed the golden ingot. It would be worth a sum of money, and could be turned into a form of currency. The two bag's full of coinage was not as useful, though they could be melted down and recast into a form of currency. "This... is the money of your people?"

Yagadash offered a short reply. "Yes, cast in the Imperial city using very pure gold, finely smelted and made into those fine coins. We call them 'Septims' after Tiber Septim, the man who became Emperor and started what we call the Third Era. He held the voice, the ability to shout like my own, he ascended when he died and eight became nine... that is to say that he became a god, Tiber Septim the man became Talos the god." Yagadash sighed. "But to the High-elves... these are green bastards from where I am from, particularly the 'Thalmor'... a group of those bastards who are quite fanatical... they oppose the idea that a man can become a god, damn Thalmor, they started a war over that very thing."

Thrall listened on with interest. "A war?"

Yagadash sighed. "It was before my time, really, and I must tell you about Tiber Septim's heirs, and the amulet of kings. Personally, I was born just after that event, what was known as the Great War, which lead to the signing of the White-Gold concordat. This will take some time to explain, I have a lot that needs to be said."

Yagadash began to recall the events from what he remembered reading through in his personal library. "There was a drop of blood, the blood of a god that became a crystal, a crimson gem, the gemstone of an amulet of great power. You see, there are bad gods in our world, we call them Daedric lords, their servants could come into our world at a whim, mostly. But Akatosh made a pact, that so long as only those of the blood of Alessia could wear the Amulet of Kings, then shall a dragonfire burn. This dragonfire kept the Daedra from invading our world, when it was lit."

Yagadash paused for a moment. "There were times when the Amulet of Kings became lost, where Daedric lords would use this to their advantage. There was a time when three alliances arose, three groupings whom fought over a vacant throne... this lead to nowhere, really. Tiber Septim would find the Amulet of Kings, he had the blood of a dragon, the Dragonfires were lit again. A successor of his died, the Daedric lord Mehrunes Dagon invaded Tamriel when the Dragonfire was vacant, unlit. We would have been screwed, until a bastard son pretty much used the Amulet and killed him off, while also sacrificing himself in the attempt. Tiber Septim's line died then... and as all conflicts for a throne begin... it was inevitably bloody. I am likely wrong on bits... but this is what I can remember."

Yagadash looked to the floor. "So there was fighting for who should take over, who should be emperor of an empire that was shaken? No heirs to a throne, but a powerful empire, an empire mostly unified... a throne just ready to be taken, a powerful army to be utilized, what a tempting prize. The answer is quite simple, it was a complicated affair, An affair I know little about, but the 'Medes' took control, that I do know about. The Empire of Septim became the Empire of Mede. But, like always, people take advantage of things like this. Slowly the territory of the Empire began to erode away, but the Thalmor, they used this to their advantage."

Yagadash smashed both of his palms against his cheeks, to emphasise his next words. "There was a Great war, which pitted a beleaguered empire against a strong Thalmor alliance. The empire lost, peace was made, the White-Gold concordat was signed, Talos worship was outlawed, Hammerfel became part of the Thalmor. The Nords of Skyrim, a people of a nation wreathed in cold and snow, they are a very devoted and martial people, a very loyal people who widely supported the empire. They where rightly incensed by this, the outlawing of Talos worship at the hands of the Thalmor. Like Shor, Talos spoke to their hearts, A warrior who became an emperor who became a god. To some Nords, this act was seen as treason, some saw the empire as no longer worthy of their trust, others tried their best to keep the matter secret, to worship in secret."

Yagadash sighed wistfully. "I was born after the White-Gold concordat, born in the hundred and eightieth year of the fourth era, but you could feel it in the very air. You could feel that something was about to happen. I was born, I was abandoned outside of an orphanage in Riften. I could feel it at the age of three, at the age of six, at the age of ten, like a whisper telling me that something was wrong. The stormcloaks were born, Ulfric as it's leader, he lead a determined band of like minded individuals, the hearty nords. They were right... in a way, what they did, they raised up their arms in rebellion." Yagadash smashed a fist against his knee. "But a rebellion against the wrong people. The empire was already strained, it was precarious, it needed everything to remain the way it was, it needed to remain stable and buy enough time to reforge itself again. The Stormcloaks raised their arms and went to war against the Empire, Ulfric was an honourable man, but he was also wrong. What was his intention after seceding Skyrim from the Empire? The Thalmor would surely use it to their advantage. I ended Ulfric, I fought for the empire because it was the right thing to do. This civil war came about during the prophesied return of an army of dragons, this was the time that lead to my rise to fame. This is my 'golden age'. The story ends there, mostly."

Thrall spoke up. "And what of the Orcs, your worlds 'Orcs', where are they in all of this?"

Yagadash laughed for a while. "You would surely hate to see it. They mostly serve in the empire, an empire mostly made up of humans, orcs fighting and dying for a human empire. But you are from Azeroth, and I am from Skyrim, and we are a very different people. I am quite jealous, If we were as large and as strong as you are, well... It makes me jealous. We do as we must, we are simply part of a large world of many different people. We don't come from another world, which is where you came from, so I have heard."

Yagadash saw the look on Thrall's face. "We are a part of our world, Thrall, just one part of it. We can be tough and loyal, but also independent, we are not eight feet tall but we fight to the best, and If you are the chieftain of a tribe, you can have about twelve wives." Yagadash pulled out his tongue to Blaise in a joking manner. "All I got was four children!"

Vol'jin spoke aloud. "Da empire... what it be like?"

Yagadash shrugged his shoulders. "I have nothing to compare it to, blue-man. I know that you do not like the humans here, but Azeroth's humans and my world's humans could be a very different people. I know that I am loyal to the empire for what it stands for. I have heard that you seek for unity among like-minded individuals, that you are branded as 'The Horde'. I will be honest, I think that it is very stupid to fight, The Horde and the Alliance both, stupid. But sometimes we do as we must, we do as we feel is right at the time, we bear the consequences and the rewards of our actions. I have no wish to be either. I do not want to be in the Horde or the Alliance, I want to be left alone."

Thrall spoke in interest. "Who are you?"

Yagadash replied back with a laconic answer. "A person."

Thrall continued to gaze at Yagadash, forcing him to reply back in a more meaningful manner. "People say that I am the dragonborn, that I am some great hero. I say differently. Yes, I am a dragonborn, but I am just a man. I am not a hero, I have done great deeds, but I did them for the empire that I believe in. There are things I've done that I regret, things I've done that I will be remembered for with big smiles for a thousand years to come. Through it all, I am simply a person. People like to say that I am this or that, but I never feel like that. I am me, me is who I shall be. I like me. I like my wealth, I like my clothing, I like my home, I like my cooking and I love my children."

Thrall sighed. "It is unfortunate that you have not thought about joining the Horde."

Yagadash sat down on the ground, not really caring for how he might be perceived by doing so. "I've had enough of conflict, I've ended a Civil war, ended a dragon invasion, ended a vampire uprising... ended too many things. I'm done. I want peace, a peaceful world is all my heart is after, but all I find is conflict and war."

Yagadash sighed. "But, I might possibly be up for sale, as a mercenary, a sell-sword. This, however, would have it's own cost."

Thrall listened in with interest. "And that cost?"

Yagadash sighed. "Ashenvale forest, I live in the east of it, that is where my estate is. I know that there is an operation there to chop down trees, I know that it is run by the Horde. This will have to stop... do this, and I might become available."

Thrall looked stern. "And how do I know if you are any good, a so-called Dragonborn?"

Yagadash smiled, swaying his puffed hat in an eccentric wave. "Why, your Chieftain-ness, you will have to trust him at his words. You can always simply return back to logging If he were to die, or should prove to be worthless. But if he is proven, you must keep to your words. On the other hand, I could also offer my services as a blacksmith, forge a few weapons or armours if you want, you never know, you might like what I make."

Thrall dismissed Yagadash. "They are owned by the Warsong clan. I am not going to halt their logging camps and alienate them."

Yagadash looked to the sides before speaking aloud. "Ahhh, I see. You profit by their actions, as a side-effect of it being from some other clan. You certainly have power over the Warsong clan, but to enact something contrary to their own ambitions would be a perceived slight on their part, it might even raise negative sentiments among other clans. You gain from this because you must surely take some of that timber to be used for numerous things, perhaps to bolster your war-efforts. I might be wrong, this is Azeroth, not Tamriel, but I've seen similar things."

Thrall refused to agree or disagree with Yagadash's statement.

"Regardless," Yagadash said. "I have spoken enough. I have told you much about myself, but I know nothing about you, Thrall."

Thrall agreed. It took several hours to hear the full story, but Yagadash was greatly informed by hearing about the events.

Yagadash left the city soon after. He was declared a neutral entity, he had the assurance of Thrall that he would be safe from any Horde encroachment into his house or territory. Yagadash wasn't so sure about that, his instincts told him to be careful about the Horde. So what if they were made up of Orcs, Yagadash came to realise that even though they were orcs, they were different. This world was different.

Yagadash had to be careful. He had a family he had to keep safe, a family to protect.


End file.
